Artificial Deviations of Absolute Memories
by Ophelia Davis
Summary: 13 years has passed since that tragic loss and Winry is left still lonely excepted for the compnay of her son. But what happens when sitings of the future to come begin to unravel before her. Sequel to Second Heartbeat
1. Long Since Passed

* * *

Author's note: This is the first chapter of the sequel to Second Heartbeat. i'm sorry it took a while to load it up but i actually have to go to someone elses house in order to load it up so you can expect updates every weekend or so. This chapter is just to get things started, but i hope you like it.

* * *

She finished the book as she had done so many times before; it was as if it was the only book on her bookshelf, though there were many collections of many other books this one was always the first to be read. It was like she was _obsessed _with it. Of course, she seemed like it every time she recalled all 52 chapters in their strict order but it wasn't that she was obsessed with it but more that it would seem like an insult to her ex-husband's memory if she DIDN'T read it.

Thirteen years had passed since that tragic day. The one day when Winry was out of the house and the day when she came back to it she found the stone cold and marble pale face of her husband, Edward as he stared into nothingness. Four huge scars brazened in his face and there was a gaping hole in his stomach. Even without seeing the body as she came to the doorway she could smell the iron from the blood in the air. Before seeing the body, what called to her attention was the blood that coated the walls and floor. Before full-realisation of the death she found it ultimately odd to see full-stops dash across the computer screen with non-ceasing determination. Now all that haunted her dreams were those empty golden eyes that stared through her and chilled her to the bone.

But that day had long since passed, and the room had long since been washed of his blood. It still left behind a memory and now whenever some red substance stained the wall or spilt onto the floor the memory would come rushing back and take a hold of her. Her eyes would become red and puffy from the tears. This then would lead to questions from her son, Nicholas. But naturally, Winry would dismiss the tears and carry on as normal. But inside she would still be feeling the tears, drowning her with no mercy.

Of course, the questions of "Why are you crying?" weren't the only ones. Often they were ones of "Where's daddy?" or "Why haven't I got a dad?" to which Winry would answer "He's away on business and he may be gone for a very long time" or "You have a father. He's a great man." These would normally silence the boy's suspicions temporarily until the next round of the repeated questions came back.

But as Nicholas grew older, the answers now came with defiant retorts of "His business should be with us!" or "Well if he's so great then why isn't he home with his family?" to which Winry couldn't answer.

Nicholas had now long since grown out of accepting "truths" and always tried to challenge them head on. This often led him into fights with kids who said otherwise, making him the loner of his class. It was times like this that Winry wished that Nicholas had some sort of father figure but she didn't feel ready for another man in her life. But she always felt it hard to push away the feeling that if Edward were here then Nicholas wouldn't be such a deviant. But she felt that it was crucial that Nicholas knew that his father was alive rather than the terrible truth of his death. For this to work, she forbade him access to her room at all costs so that he wouldn't find the book or the newspaper report at the back. Winry knew she would have to tell him the truth sometime but inwardly she dreaded the moment when she would have to.

What kept her going through these times was her son. He carried such a familiarity to his father that it was uncanny. The face was mostly the same in features with those familiar golden eyes that turned with a determination, but his hair was a platinum blond, which was a lot hers only a lighter shade. His voice was admittedly the same only on a higher pitch to that of his father's. But that didn't matter. All that did was that evidently his father's blood rapidly through his veins.

But Nicholas Isaac Elric had changed so much from the sweet child that he used to be. His hair was now adorned with black streaks, which were attained without his mother's consent; these held evidence to his deviance. He was also absent of manners and deaf to reason. Really, he was just a bundle of energy and he always managed to keep his mother on her toes.

But there was only one thing that kept him quiet and still. Alchemy. Just as his father and grandfather had done he had naturally taken to learning the science. His skill was almost equal to Edward's now, but that was because he didn't have the skill of the handclap, and thank goodness!

As these thoughts and feelings still whirled around inside her head, she checked the clock of her bedroom wall.

"9:30pm."

She placed the book under her pillow and, with a sigh, left her room and walked up to Nicholas' bedroom. Poking her head around the door, left ajar, she found him reading at his desk with a lamp.

'Come on Nicholas.' She said calmly. 'It's 9:30. Start getting ready for bed.'

'Awww. 5 minutes?' Nicholas pleaded.

'Fine.' She sighed. 'But then I want you asleep, ok?'

'Ok.' Not even a thank you, as usual.

'Ok. Goodnight.' Winry shut the door behind her and made her way back to her room. She lay on the luxuriant quilt and her body sank into the comfy mattress. But the covers were always cold now. They had been since Edward's death and now they refused to warm up. She could remember how her and Edward would cuddle up together in the warm bed sheets before dropping gradually into their blissful slumber. But now the double bed seemed so much bigger without him and, with no one to cuddle up to, the quilt always stayed frozen.

She cuddled up to her pillow and slowly sleep took over her body.

* * *

Author's note: In case you haven't realised, this is 13 years into the future from the last chapter. but what do you think of Nicholas and Winry in here? Please R&R!


	2. Beginning Of All

Author's Note: Here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

_Winry stood at the edge of the town centre. In front of her was a large stone floored clearing; littered with the corpses of the unfortunate to befall such a fate so soon in their lives. Their blood stained the cobbled stones in steadily flowing pools that found their way to the gutters at the edge. Those still lucky to be alive surrounded the edges, but silence held them in place. Three roads, including the one that Winry, Izumi, Alphonse and Hohenheim were on usually led into the clearing. Both of the other roads were in use. The road opposite hers was full of military soldiers with their Fuhrer, King Bradley and his secretary, Juliet Douglas leading the frontline; Juliet stood loyally at his side. But they weren't the only ones on the frontline. In front of the Fuhrer himself, was the Colonel Roy Mustang. His face was pale with disbelief and full of pain as his eyes glared forward in bewilderment towards the clearing, the realisation of a missing love held him weakly to his knees. On the last road, a florescent green paramedics car had been parked and, stood in front of it, were the team of doctors that Winry knew so well. Dr Gregory House, Dr James Wilson, Dr Alison Cameron, Dr Robert Chase and Dr Eric Foreman; they too glared forward as if their own sight was being led by a comedian._

_Letting her own eyes fall to the middle of the clearing, she found five Homunculi, Envy, Gluttony, Lust, Greed and Wrath. But Wrath was apart from the others. His mouth was dribbling with scarlet drops of life ensuring blood, as did his once deep green hair, the only way this was known was from the rare flecks of his true colour showing through the stains. Even he wasn't alone, for before lay such a familiar and marble pale skinned body. Edward Elric. His face was brazened with four deep scars and in his throat was an easily evident gaping bite. Blood poured profusely from the wound and his own blood, such that stained Wrath so well, stained also Edward's mouth and chin._

_Tears tainted her eyes and cheeks. It was like the whole world had stood still upon the sight of the dead teenager. But all know were cautious of one another. They didn't know who would make the first move. What had frozen the crowd? Fear. They feared for their lives. What had frozen the Homunculi? Everyone else. They knew that if anyone made a sudden movement then the crowd would try and scatter from their grasps. Here it was all about strategy and tactics and only when the victims moved would they put them into play._

_Suddenly, the shink of metal pierced the ever endeavouring silence and, not only that, but the flesh that was its prize. As suddenly as the sound blessed the eye, all eyes swivelled to the sight at which the metal made its presence. It came from the military road that everyone was sure of. The metal was now known as that of blade, which was held in one of the Fuhrer's skilled hands while the other end of it was locked into a place Winry hoped never to see such an item…Roy's throat. Blood poured from the wound profusely as if the blade was its own fountain of misfortune, its own water; Roy's blood, dripped madly from his mouth. He couldn't scream away his undying pain but could only gasp for blissful air as did the sounds of gurgling liquid from his mouth take hold of listening ears. His hand held onto the blade weakly with thinly hoped for wishes of life. But those hopes and wishes were taken away mercilessly as, with one sharp twist and jerk, the sword ripped from its flesh prison and through the walls; leaving Roy to collapse on the floor, half-decapitated. No screams erupted from him and no movement since falling was present. The peace of death had been granted upon him. Wretched scream from the sight arose from the crowd and abruptly the clearing was ablaze with action._

_As assumed, the crowd tried to scatter away but that was after the Homunculi had made their own move to quickly advance on them. With a twisting jump, Envy landed in the midst of the crowd and, transfiguring his arms into blades, he took down the surrounding people. Now those once within radius of him tried in panicked motions to escape and scatter from his hold, but the only other way to go was towards more Homunculi, giving rise to a steadily increasing body count. Screams of pain rose from those caught by the Homunculi, screams of panic rose from those almost close enough to be caught and laughs of triumph chorused from the Homunculi who were enjoying the thrill of the hunt, but overall the kill._

_But Winry was still frozen to her spot. Neither would Izumi dare to move, on the other hand, Hohenheim was more focused on his newly determined objective._

_'Quick! Run for Edward's body! Winry, stick to me and you two, fight off the Homunculi if they come close! Izumi, take the front, and Alphonse, take the rear! Now come on!' Hohenheim's command rung harshly to the recipient's ears among the cries of the dying and panicked._

_The four made their way towards the dead Edward, working against the pushing crowd as even they, with awakened anger, threatened to trample them down if anything was done to prevent their escape. Finally, after much endeavour, they made it to the body. Those golden eyes were staring into nothingness, unnerving Winry as both her and Hohenheim crouched at the side of it._

_'Izumi! Alphonse! Guard us while we work!' Hohenheim demanded. Al and Izumi nodded in agreement and they were now protecting a small circle that was Hohenheim's workspace. Quickly, he started foraging through his coat pockets._

_'Are you going to bring him back to life with the Philosopher's stone? Like you did last time?' Winry asked._

_'He's already been brought back once. I can't bring back to life again. But I can do the next best thing.' Hohenheim finally brought out a think metal rod. The end was sharpened for use and the other end had a plastic handle on it._

_'What are you going to do?' She asked, her face beginning to panic at the sight of the sharp object._

_'You'll see. But right now, hold his head still!'_

_Without hesitation, but with trust in his intelligence, she obeyed. Edward's skin felt frozen against her hands. Raising the rod up to the air, Hohenheim brought the sharpened end down on Edward's head with brute force giving way to a horrible crack as it penetrated his skull. The crack brought down onto her a horrified scream from her trembling lips._

_'What are you doing?!' She screamed._

_Rapidly, Hohenheim brought out a syringe from his pocket and fed it into the newly made hole and pulled out an extract of greyish blue gunk hurriedly. Taking out a glass test tube, he squeezed the extract into it and corked it up with practised ease. Shaking it up, he replaced it back into an inside chest pocket._

_'Carry Edward out now!' Hohenheim ordered._

_'Couldn't you have done that later?' She asked as she picked up the corpse, holding him in her arms bridal-style. The blood from his wounds soon spilled upon her clothes._

_'I'll explain later! But come on! We have to get out of here!' Hohenheim looked around and found Alphonse close by, except for Izumi._

_'Where's Izumi?' Hohenheim asked._

_'I don't know!' His voice was full of distress even though his steel helmet was always void of emotion. 'She got dragged into a fight with Ira and I haven't seen her since!'_

_'You mean Wrath. He's a Homunculus.' Hohenheim sighed resignedly. 'We'll have to leave her for now. We'll come back for her later.'_

_'Are you sure?' Winry asked._

_'There's no doubt about it! Now run!' Hohenheim, Alphonse, and Winry with Edward in tow escaped from the clearing. They never stopped running and they wouldn't dare falter for their life's sake._

_'Where are we heading then?' Hohenheim asked._

_'How about Roy's house? He won't need it now.' Alphonse suggested._

_'Good. Lead us there then.' Hohenheim commanded. Alphonse ran a little way ahead, always making sure that the others were following behind him._

_The further they ran from the clearing, the more the distant screams died away. She could feel her energy drain with the effort, her legs felt like they had rocks strapped to them and she could feel her speed falter under the body's weight._

_'Come on. Keep going.' Hohenheim encouraged with an encouraging side-glance. 'Don't worry Winry. It's the beginning of all.'_

_'The beginning of all? What do you mean?' Suddenly, the weight of the body in her arms vanished and the feeling in her legs vanished. She felt so weightless and even more still as the surroundings around her began to fade to black as did Hohenheim height; from sight. A carpet of darkness surrounded her entirely, trapping her in place._


	3. The Morning After

Winry awoke with a jolt. She'd only just managed to escape from that carpet of darkness and now what greeted her was a carpet of light that penetrated the curtains and strained itself across the floor and her bed. It was morning and 13 years later from her dream. She knew she'd seen the first scene somewhere else and it wasn't long before her memory called it up for her viewing. With a stroke of realisation, she fingered through her pillow and brought out her book. Carefully, she flicked through the pages until she found her wanted chapter, chapter 42.

Skimming through the lines, she finally read an extract, "Suddenly, Edward's knees buckled and he fell down to the floor on his back. Winry could see it all. The bloodstained mouth and the missing throat…" She couldn't read any further from there, for already the tears stung her face. But it was true. Her dream had carried on from that chapter. She'd seen the future of it and it had included the strangest line, "Beginning of all." And before she could acquire a meaning, she was covered with that carpet of darkness, as if she was never meant to know it yet.

The line weighed heavy on her mind and she couldn't forget it. She couldn't put it out of her head or banish it from the complicated walls of her brain. But, for now, she would have to carry on with daily life. She had, after all, a son to wake up for school and later some auto-mail patients to see and look after. She couldn't afford to let her dreams distract her.

She checked the time on her clock. "7:00am." Nicholas needed waking up.

-Later that day-

Nicholas walked in from school dragging his school bag behind him. Kicking off his shoes, he trudged into the kitchen and, collapsing into the old black computer chair and spun around it amusedly.

'How was school today?' Winry asked. She couldn't help thinking of how much Nicholas looked like Edward sitting in that chair.

'Ok. In RE we were learning about this new religion called Christianity. Apparently, "God" was the beginning of all. He created the world in 7 days.'

"There it is! Beginning of all!" Winry thought.

'You ok mom?' Nicholas asked as he noticed the wondrous look that was presented on his mother's face.

'Oh, er nothing. Just don't spin around too much in that chair. It might break.' Winry warned.

Nicholas ceased his spinning and, with absentminded eyes, glared at the black material, which were now mostly adorned in deep maroon stains in the fabric. 'What are these stains in the chair?' Nicholas wondered suspiciously.

'Oh. When your father was home he was always clumsy in the computer chair and often ended up spilling all sorts of stuff in it.' She laughed falsely at the fabricated memory as if it only happened yesterday, but Nicholas still looked at her warily.

'All OVER the chair? His suspicions were increasing.

Winry knew he was trying to catch her out; she needed to change the subject and fast.

'Don't you have homework to do?' She asked hastily.

'Yes and I'll do it.' He sighed. He had been the one to be caught out this time but that was only by sheer luck. Had he had no homework to do then the conversation would have finally had to reveal the true origin of the huge stain, and there was no way that she was prepared to do that.

Daily life carried on as normal but still she had to know how Nicholas ended up saying that strange line after she had heard it before in the mysterious twining of her dream. Winry was sure that Nicholas hadn't heard the phrase before so how it came into use she had no idea of. She still hadn't managed to comprehend a meaning to it either. It could have been meant in the sense that it was describing a creator, as Nicholas had prescribed, but she doubted that Hohenheim's use of the phrase was anything of the sort.

There seemed no way to figure it out. She would have to wait for the meaning to creep up on her…if she was so fortunate as to realise it.

* * *

Author's note: All chapters that consist of just italics are ones where it's Winry's dreams. Now that that has been established please don't forget to R&R!


	4. Surrogate

Once Edward's corpse had been cleaned of its congealed blood, it was gently laden on a table and covered up with a cloth so as to prevent others from feeling the torture of those void golden eyes staring through their being. But, now his body was veiled, Winry and Alphonse could sit down at its with somewhat more ease as they waited for Hohenheim to finish on the phone. After an unfortunate call, in which no one answered, he sat down with them at the table. Alphonse's face, though always expressionless, portrayed an atmospheric sign of dismay.

'_Brother can't be dead. We still had to get our original bodies back. It was our goal.' _

'_Alphonse.' Hohenheim began. 'There IS no way for you to get your original body back. The Philosopher's stone can't give back something if it was taken through human transmutation. It's your punishment.' Hohenheim looked saddened with downcast eyes. 'I'm sorry.' _

'_I guess your right.' Alphonse sighed. 'We did the forbidden. I guess our mission was meant for failure right from the start.' Alphonse reasoned. Although he knew the steaks, he was a kind-hearted and patient boy on the inside. _

'_What were those phone calls for anyway?' Winry asked. _

'_I was wondering if Dr. House was back at the hospital. I need his expertise for this.' Hohenheim patted gently the pocket where the test tube was kept. _

'_What for?' _

'_I have a plan. By taking out the memories from Edward's mind I am sure that we can bring him back.' He explained. _

'_Then couldn't you have extracted the memories while we were here?' Alphonse asked. _

'_No. If I tried now then his memories would've faded and his DNA wouldn't have been suitable for extraction. By taking them just minutes after his death then it's guaranteed to work.'_

'_What is it?' _

'_The method that gave birth to Wrath.' _

'_No!' Winry protested. 'We can't use the method! That's what killed Edward in the first place! We can't risk another life!' _

'_It's ok!' Hohenheim reassured. 'I've perfected the method! The virus that was attached to the method before was used especially for MALE bodies because they can't naturally bear children. But it isn't needed for female patients and it's safer. The baby will be born naturally but the duration period will last a month as before.' He explained intricately. _

'_So we're just going to ask some random women to GIVE BIRTH to EDWARD?!' _

'_Of course not. That would be absurd! That's why I would like to ask you to be the one to bear Edward.' Hohenheim gave her a hopeful smile, but she didn't comprehend it properly and her widened eyes of shock were evident of that. _

'_M-Me?' Winry stammered. _

'_Of course. You're perfect. You know him well, you know what to expect so we don't have to explain our motives and wouldn't you want Edward back as well?' Hohenheim asked persuasively. 'I know you're a little young to be doing something like this but we're going to help you the best we can.' _

'_I-I just don't' know. It's a big decision to be…well…a surrogate mother. And wouldn't mean that I would be Edward's mother?' _

'_No. None of your DNA is connected to Edward. We just use an egg cell from you, take away the nucleus, add the nucleus of one of Edward's brain cells and re-implant it into you. Then you'll get a clone of Edward with all his old memories in tact.' Again the explanation was intricate._

'_But wait.' Alphonse protested. 'Ira was born a Homunculus. Wouldn't that make Edward a Homunculus too?' _

'_It's a possibility. But there are only seven Homunculi, which are named respectively after the seven deadly sins. Since all seven have been accounted for and are out there now kicking humanity's ass there can't really be another homunculus.'_

'_I-I guess I COULD be the surrogate.' Winry finally agreed. _

_-Later at the Hospital-_

_After shutting the door of the house with alchemy, and after taking carefully shortcuts away from the town centre, they managed to reach the Hospital. With luck, House and his team had managed to escape the fray._

_After some gentle persuasion, Winry had been put under local anaesthetic and, with House and Cameron's help, they were ready to implant the newly extracted and "conditioned" egg back into her body._

'_You're in for a rough month.' House commented as he remembered the month that Edward himself had undertaken. _

'_Don't worry.' Hohenheim reassured Winry. 'It'll be like any other pregnancy only the duration is considerably shorter. It'll be over before you know it. Besides, this'll be the last time I use the method. He'll be but the last to come.' _

'_But the last to come?' Winry repeated. 'Again you don't make sense. What do you mean?' Before Winry could get her answer, her eyes grew heavy and the same carpet of darkness washed over her. _

Author's note: I'm sorry for the really long update. Hope you enjoy this chapter. I should be able to update more chapters now that's the summer holidays.


	5. Late Letter

Another dream with another line of nonsense, and now she had more to mull over than she wanted. But it was another school day for her son again so things would, once again, have to carry on as usual. She couldn't let herself be kept down by a silly dream. But she couldn't help but think that she was learning more from Hohenheim than ever before, such as how the method worked and what it consisted of, and now in her dreams she was going to be able to see things through Edward's view. Even though Edward could now be reborn in her world of sleep, Winry still couldn't see a way for Edward to be born in this reality. As far as she knew, the method did not exist or at least was not possibly functioning on this side of the pillow.

The post flap in her door clicked and, with a slow sombreness, collected the post. After flipping through each letter, she found mostly bills, a newspaper but also a letter that didn't match the former. By the stamp she could tell easily that had originated from Nicholas' school but dated for yesterday's arrival. These letters weren't hard to come by in this house often due to Nicholas' short temper and constant taunts, making these letters a common phenomenon. Often they occurred because his behavioural problems brought many occurrences such as truancy, homework lateness, fights, and class disruptions and rarely…for wearing make-up but that only happened the once.

'Stupid letters getting stupidly late in the post.' Winry sighed, as she ripped open the wrapper containing the letter. 'What's he done this time?' Unfolding the official paper, she read its printed words carefully.

"Dear parent/guardian of Nicholas Isaac Elric,

We regret to inform you that your son was not only late but was the last to come. He missed the first two lessons of school and got to school by the end of break.

Please sort a system for him to get to school on time for future situations or else he'll be placed in an hour-long detention for the rest of the week.

Yours sincerely,

Head teacher, Ms E. Shrapnel"

The line had crept up again. "But last to come." It seemed now that whenever she heard a nonsensical line in her dream she was most likely going to hear it again the next day. But she couldn't be sure that there was always going to be that pattern. She agreed to herself, "If it happens tomorrow then I'll ask Hohenheim. He's coming over the day after tomorrow anyway. He'll have a better idea.

Winry would have to inform Nicholas that she knows of his truancy but apart from that that was all that was needed to be said.


	6. Kill Me

Winry was now in her second week of the month duration period. Already some form of a bump visible and the luxury of sitting or lying down comfortably had been sacrificed for the child growing within. The first week hadn't been much better wither, for the morning sickness was horrendous and for the first few days she declared herself bed bound. But now that it had worn off she could feel more at ease with the whole idea of being pregnant.

_Their residence in Central was still that of Roy's house and, her usual daily place within its walls was on the sofa with pillows propped up at her back as a bid for comfort, but having Hohenheim check up on her every so often was not making relaxation an easy goal. _

'_Please Hohenheim!' Winry's agitations drove her to shoving away the annoying analyst. 'I'm fine!' _

'_But maybe not all the time! I have to make sure I know when any changes come up!' _

'_I'll TELL you the changes myself!' Winry laid back into the cushions. 'I'm sure you weren't this damn annoying with Edward when HE was pregnant.' _

'_I had no choice.' Hohenheim replied. 'He wouldn't live with me during the pregnancy.' _

_Lying further back into the cushions, she finally found comfort._

_But it wasn't going to last forever. Inside she could feel a gentle kicking sensation that she herself knew was from the baby growing inside her. She liked the kicking. It felt funny and somehow soothing to her. She gave a little giggle each time the child made a gentle kick. But the giggles weren't far from Hohenheim's ears. _

'_What was that?' Hohenheim asked suspiciously. _

'_It's the baby. He's kicking!' she smiled happily. 'Come and feel.'_

_Immediately Hohenheim got up and placed a cold hand onto her belly, and his smile grew as he felt the gentle pulse of the child. 'Can you feel it?' She asked. _

'_Yeah!' He laughed as it happened again. With each pulse he a loud joyous laugh, but that the baby disliked. _

"_What was that?!" The baby cried. Winry could here the loud and familiar voice in her ears and she grew rigid with fear. _

'_Are you ok?' Her atmosphere had grown from that of joy to one of fright. _

'_Th-The baby. Edward…H-He spoke!' Winry was frozen with the shock, as if she had been thrown into cold water. _

'_He spoke?!' Hohenheim bellowed with alarm. _

"_What's going on? Where am I?" The baby cried in distress. "I can't be here! I shouldn't be here! I want to die! Please kill me I want to die!!!" The baby cried its fear and distress, which bought tears to Winry's eyes to hear him scream and cry for the eternal bliss of Death's cold grasp. _

'_What's wrong Winry?' Hohenheim asked more urgently. _

'_He wants to die!' Winry burst into more tears. 'Edward wants me to kill him! I-.' _

'_Don't give in Winry.' Hohenheim encouraged. 'It's probably too overwhelming for him to be in a place like the womb. He's never really known what it's like to be there before.' Hohenheim hugged Winry close as reassurance and a way to give her new hope. _

"_The womb?" Edward's crying had finally ceased. "Is that where I am?" _

_A smile started to brighten on Winry's face now that Edward had ceased his longing cries for death._

'_Yes.' Winry smiled. 'Using Hohenheim's method we're going to bring you back to life.' _

"_Using Hohenheim's…wait! Won't that kill you?!"_

'_No. Hohenheim's made the method safer. We'll be just fine." She reassured._

"_But Winry. You don't understand. I'm joined by blood to the evil ones!" _

'_Joined by blood to the evil ones? What do you mean?'_

_But a carpet of darkness had already swallowed her whole and she was unable to rise out of its darkness. She couldn't escape no matter how hard she tried. _


	7. This Time

Author's note: Sorry again for not updating for ages. My computer is useless at letting me update, so I have to use other people's computers. Also, this chapter seems pitifully small for you guys, but I am going to give you guys more than one chapter today. You may also expect major updates this week too, so enjoy for now.

Tears stung Winry's eyes as she sat on her bed that morning. Her cheeks were red and she could taste the salty liquid of her tears as they dripped into her mouth. Though she was crying it was through tears of joy. After 13 years, she was finally able to hear Edward's voice and oh how she adored and longed for its next hearing. She wanted to hear it all the time in her ears, hear it calling for her love and admiration, which she knew she would give.

But she had to keep in mind what Edward's words were. He was crying for death! He wanted to be killed. But Winry couldn't really act so surprised when Edward was dead he was at peace but now that he had been dragged from his heaven he could only long for it. But there was something else that Edward had mentioned. Another nonsensical line like she had heard before from Hohenheim. "Joined by blood to the evil ones."

Joined by blood didn't make much sense on the first and last hearing and the evil ones could be anything or anyone. The trouble would be trying to find out which was which and who was what. But that answer wasn't coming as easily as she hoped. It had to be decided now through. If the line came up anywhere now then Hohenheim would definitely have to be considered as help. It's been consistent for the past few days and since a line has come up from her dream without fail then there was something strange…even significant going on. Drying her tears, she trudged slowly downstairs in her nightgown to find Nicholas listening to loud music on the radio.

'Hey mum!' Nicholas tried to shout over the racket.

'Turn it down! It's too early!' Winry's voice tried to conquer the noise but it was easily drowned out.

'What?!' Nicholas shouted. In a huff, she stamped over to the radio and turned it down. 'Hey! I was listening to that!'

'It doesn't need to be THAT loud. You could've woken the whole road with that!'

'I won't do it again.' Nicholas sighed.

"A sorry would've sufficed." She sighed inwardly. 'That's ok.' She smiled. 'Just eat your breakfast or you'll be late for school.'

'Fine.' Nicholas groaned.

As Nicholas ate his cereal, she watched him listlessly with a smile on her face. Even if Nicholas could be rebellious at times she still enjoyed his company. But even as she watched him there was never any silence.

The music from the radio seemed crazy to her as the lyrics rang clear from its speakers.

"Creeping under my skin

My blood is wearin' thin

As it pulls me apart, evil ones in this din

Cos this time

Joined by the blood

This time

Joined by blood, to the evil ones

This time, and next time!"

There it was. The lines! The nonsensical line coming through the speakers! This did concern Hohenheim, since he kept turning up in her dreams. And if Edward were alive, it would concern him also, since it carried on from the fight in his coma. That would have to be mentioned to Hohenheim when he came over tomorrow. But for now, for fear of reaction, Nicholas would not be informed. To mention his father in such a way to Nicholas would surely coax a battle from his, especially when all he knew about his father was his name and his hobby, that being alchemy.

Photos though were not shown to Nicholas. The only ones in existence were from the book, Second Heartbeat, the wedding photo, which Winry kept, locked away in her room and the family photos were either kept at Pinako's or with Hohenheim. But Nicholas had never gone to visit old Pinako's house for the fact that it was empty now of her presence and the photos there were kept away in old boxes from sight.

Really, Nicholas could only imagine what he looked like.

Author's note: What did you guys think of the lyrics? Before I got into fan fiction I used to do a lot of lyric writing (because like many people, I dream of writing a song) so i have experience on that. Please Review, because I haven't gotten any reviews since the last time I updated in one big go.

Ophelia Davis


	8. Power Of All

_The time had come. The month had passed. The baby was ready for birth and so was Winry, and now they were in a private maternity room. Winry had been properly dressed in the blue gown and already she was in labour. House, Cameron and the midwife were on hand with Hohenheim sat in the corner and in wait. For him it seemed like all this was just strictly business, and, if he was involved, then things could go wrong. The midwife prepared himself with washed hands and surgical gloves, making he ready to do what he's only done so many times before. By this reassurance, they could be sure that Winry would be in safe hands, and this sort of reassurance was needed because giving birth was something she had never attempted before and at such an age as hers then it would surely be harder. _

_Winry's screams, which reflected her endeavours, were clear in the air, refracting from every surface making her presence and hardship known. They pierced the air, piercing ears, as if threatening to make everyone clench their ears shut but, at the same time, not want to ignore the suffering she was feeling, although childbirth was hardly suffering but a gift even if at the time the woman would not think so. Tears stained her eyes and sweat clung to her brow, the beads rolling down her face. She so sincerely wished for it to be over and done with, so that she could be relieved of this pain. So that it was over as quickly as it began. But it didn't help that Hohenheim refrained from being at her side. Even his company would have been some form of stress relief in this time of need. House was there, and he made sure to offer his hand, but it wasn't quite the same. He was, after all, a doctor not a friend. It was his JOB to care and be somewhat considerate although at first appearance House was none of those things. _

_The midwife made constantly sure to offer his own words of encouragement to her as, like any other midwife, was a ritual thing to do. Winry's screams continued on harder as was clear in her white-knuckle grasp on House's hand, leaving him too screaming from the now shared energy of pain in both him and Winry. _

'_One last time! You're doing great!' came the midwife's encouraged words as his excitement and thoughts of a job well done were coming through. And, with one last effortful scream, she could finally stop now breathless from her work. But, before the relieving sound of a newborn baby's cry could be heard, what replaced it was the unexpected rush of water that splashed to the floor at their feet leaving the midwife in puzzlement. _

'_What was that?' Winry's breathless concern was clear, it was expected after all. 'Where did the splashing come from?' _

'_The baby…turned into water!' The midwife stuttered. Glaring down at his feet, only water graced his eyes instead of the preferred sight of a baby. He could only stare as the water spread along the floor. The sight wasn't far from House's eyes either and soon his authority took affect._

'_Everyone! Stay still!' He ordered. He'd clashed with a homunculus before on a situation nearly as familiar as this one and his superior experience of it told him of that previous situation. With everyone motionless, they had managed to escape the room with one fatality, which soon lowered to none thanks to Hohenheim. _

'_What is the meaning of this House? You said this would be a routine birth and now the baby's turned itself into a puddle on the floor! Do you call THIS routine?!' his outburst showed clearly that, unlike House, he had no experience of this situation. Winry didn't what to make of the situation. From here it was beyond her control. She could only watch as the midwife began to advance on House in his flustered anger, which differed so much from his excited expressions, which were present only minutes ago. _

'_Stop moving! Anything could-.' But House's protests were cut short by the shank of extended nails that pierced through flesh, that being the midwife's. The nails themselves had extended from the puddle without any mercy to go by. Winry let out a scream of surprise, as if she already knew the results of the attack, that of which being fatal. As proof of that assumption, the midwife fell down dead, having been released from the nail's fatal hold. It was such a surprise to all that even House couldn't bring himself to make a worthy remark, not that one was worthy of a situation such as this. _

_Suddenly, the water began to solidify into that of a fleshy pink colour. Its body began to form, the pink jelly like substance forming into something more meaningful and limb-like. The body's form was now clearer and the limbs more defined and, from the top formed a head. There, staring with wide-eyed shock, it began to share it's own guilt-ridden cries. The baby was back to its original form and, with this acknowledgement; Cameron hurriedly picked it up off the now dry floor. _

_Grabbing a cloth from the side, she wrapped him up in it and held him close to her hoping to warm up his newly exposed skin that had so shockingly been revealed to the seemingly coldness of the room from the seemingly warmness of the womb. Gently she tried to soothe the baby's cries with sweet coos of reassurance and her own little bout of love-sharing kindness. But, as suddenly as they had sprouted, the tears ceased and with a lunge of his mouth clenched tightly onto Cameron's right hand, biting hard. The baby's now apparent teeth bit into the flesh and so proceeded to chew through the flesh and bone swallowing down each mouth-watering mouthful. Dr Cameron's screams of agony pierced the air as the teeth worked their way slowly through her. She tried her best to pull him off but his jaw had locked into her now and wouldn't let go. Blood dribbled down the side of the baby's mouth and with a working tongue he lapped it away showing his thoroughly enjoyment of what his taste buds were being lavished with. Quickly the fingers had diminished and he built up more speed for the devouring of the whole hand after building up strength from his first finger meal. _

_Hohenheim!' Winry screamed. 'Help her! Someone!' _

_House had previously been paralysed by the shock of such a deviously cruel action but now his wits had been brought back as he began to grapple with the baby, trying what Cameron could not succeed in, that being trying to remove the baby from human flesh. After one final crunch through bone, the baby released its hold and blood oozed from the remaining stump where he had taken offence on the hand. The blood oozed generously and Cameron could only clutch it in shock. _

'_You ate her hand!' He screamed. 'You bastard!' but, in his hands, the baby began to shine a bright electric blue. The new introduction of light blinded away all features of the child only leaving an outline of what was now his apparent transformation. The transformation was that that dramatically contrasted with the original form as both form upwards and outwards changed. Under the new increase of weight, House could only let go of the transforming child letting the new form take affect. His height increased as his body lengthened and thickened. Finally, as the light eased away, the relief of light soon revealed a man staring back at House. He stood to the man's same height and frame. The new forms face held such intricately identical formations to the man stood opposite leaving Winry to look on the event knowing too well that this was all beyond her control as was before established by her mind. _

_With those familiar lips, the new form pulled them into a smirk that, with eerie consideration, did not match the character he had taken into his own. As House made each movement or word form, so did the new form and with exact and easy disparagement of the man he so effortlessly imitated. _

'_Stop copying me!' House shouted feeling the effect of the contemptuous copy, but the latterly mentioned shot back with incredible unison and sharing those infuriated expressions that marked House's face. _

'_Shut up!' came House's protests and, as he began to throw off balance punches (because he wasn't using his cane) the other broke away from his nonsensical bout of unison to dodge these offence based moves with quick and graceful ease. But even as the barrage of punches kept coming his way, it was one quick swipe that these were ended. House had been stuck on the offence so there was no time for such endeavours as a reflex action when angered by the suffering of a friend. But it was leading to his downfall, for with that swipe, the nails on that hand clawed through his face. The nails had penetrated his eyes, releasing the whites of them that now spilled from his sockets, as if they egg yolk of a fried egg that had been pierced. The nose had been ripped away from his face. The lower half of his mouth had been taken clean off as House opened his mouth to scream. All that damage was done with that single swipe. But now he could no longer scream, he could now longer see and yet he wasn't dead. Just bleeding. But, in the suffering state that he was in now, he was better off dead. _

_His head whizzed around wildly for any sense of relief, but there was none and, with no sight to accompany his constant search, there was little help left for him. Suddenly, his head stopped and began to stare out into Winry, although they weren't staring. They just glared past her and into nothingness. They only stared in her direction. Tears from his eyes diluted themselves into the eye whites, leaving Winry to scream from the fear. Her heart raced ever faster than before, as if the distant theatre of horror had rebirth itself from fiction to come alive before her. But she kept forgetting…it had. Towards her, he staggered slowly until he clutched her arm shakily in a sense of begging and needing that was never before portrayed on House's character, for never needed help like this before. He wanted her aid, for her help but she couldn't give it. She was ill qualified for such a thing. _

_The fatigue of blood loss took its hold upon him and his knees buckled underneath his weight; his trembling hands tried to seek security from the potential fall and so clutched the covers of the bed, now dragging them down with him. But Winry clutched the covers close to her, screaming in terror as House fell to the floor. Now all he could do was convulse on the floor as if Death was taking a hold of his form and shaking him, trying to make the ever-reluctant House ease away from life itself. But even on the brink of death House still tried to fight a losing battle for those dear last seconds of life. But they were lost to the air as his convulsions slowed and, finally…nothing. There was no response or energy left in him as it had been converted into the kinetic that left him to the air. Now there was nothing of life left in him. Dead. _

_Looking slowly towards the other figure that was her child, she found her eyes fell onto the his hand; the blue colour of it and it's lethal implications leading them there, especially when sharp blood lavished claws adorned those fingers. Letting that hardened blue layer dissipate from his skin, he quickly clapped his hands. Winry knew that pose so well and could only watch as those hands were placed quickly to the floor and a electric lash of blue thrash the floor as a wall protruded from it and cover over Hohenheim's cover. Now Hohenheim was separated from her with no quick way to helping her. _

_All that garlanded the floor now were the constantly spreading pools of blood, the lumps of congealing eye whites and the three bodies of the midwife and the two doctors. All three were either dead or dying, but neither gave such a response as a single movement. _

_The form that had disguised itself as House stepped over to Winry with a calm demeanour on his face and slowness that lacked the thought or notion that he ever did something so cruel or defiling. Sitting on her bed, his body produced once again that blinding light that outlined his form and quickly it took on the outline it was owned before that fateful transformation. Soon, it was back to that original form of baby. With inapt happiness, the baby crawled across the covers until, once on her chest, he let he lay there so serenely and at peace._

'_You're MINE now!' He declared with obsessive declared as he clutched onto her. Even though tears spilled from his golden eyes, he still rented a satisfied smile. _

_Despite the evil things that Edward had taken upon himself to do, she could only love him. He was her own after all. Taking him up in her arms she cradled the child. But she saw it. The mark. It stood clearly over his throat. The snake biting its own tail, the wings above it and the six-point star that held residence in the middle of that snake-created circle. It was the distinct mark of the ouroboros, so proving that he was a Homunculus. Edward now contained within him the powers of all the Homunculi put together. _

'_Power of all.' She mumbled to herself. But, before she could question her own words, she was once again enveloped in darkness. _


	9. Tenshintaru

Author's note: Yes, we salute you House. You died in the last chapter. You had a long run (not that he COULD run) but you will be sorely missed. The good news is you are only dead in Winry's dreams. You still exist in reality. Hurray. What a story line! LOL! Let's carry on.

With Hohenheim on his way any minute now and after many arguments with Nicholas, both Winry and her son were able to get the house cleaned just in time, but despite that bout of difficulty, it was a seemingly normal routine in their household for whenever they had an expected visitor.

But Winry could remember still that morning and what had happened. She had awoken while the day had yet to dawn, screaming from her nightmare as cold sweat clung to her with fear. It still haunted her mind even hours later, the face of House as he fell to the ground dragging with him the bed sheets. The mixture of congealing eye white, blood and tears that streamed down his face was enough to keep her wide awake and fear for the once blissful kiss of sleep. But what made the nightmare even more terrifying was seeing Edward commit the murder. She knew full well that Edward had killed before, the alchemist that he killed on accident was proof of that, but that instance in her dream, was nothing but unnecessary and cold-blooded slaughtering. It was so merciless and cruel that she couldn't let herself believe that the baby really _was _Edward. Even Dr Cameron suffered at his hands by losing hers to his gullet at a slow as if it would never end pace. Those sights of cannibalism and ruthless executions were enough to make her sick.

Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell broke her train of thought and soon, she and Nicholas were at the door and now opening it to find the towering figure of Hohenheim waiting on the other side.

'Please come in.' She welcomed him in with a smile, the perfect 'guise for what was latterly running through her mind. Letting Nicholas shut the door behind him once he'd stepped through, Winry welcomed him to sit down at the kitchen table before her joining him there. By his side, Hohenheim put down is bag.

'Say hello to your Grandfather Nicholas.' But Winry's insisting was so blatantly ignored as Nicholas stared at Hohenheim with hardened eyes. His fiery gold orbs stared straight into Hohenheim's, who, instead of doing the same, simply smiled at him.

'No.' Nicholas answered with simply implicated wrath.

'A simple hello will suffice.' Winry frowned.

'Not until he tells dad to get back over here!' his eyes were still locked onto his grandfather's and no effort to leave them had yet been made. Hohenheim's face saddened and he gave a sigh.

'Your father doesn't keep in touch with me anymore. There's no way for me to tell him what he should be doing.' He answered finally. Nicholas once again tried to hold his grandfather's gaze, but after seeing that no more secrets were going to be given up to him, he gave up.

'Fine.' Nicholas sighed. 'I'm going to go and watch TV.' He retreated to the living room and so left his mother and grandpa on their own.

'That friction is still there then.' Hohenheim smiled. 'It must be hard hearing Nicholas talk about his dad like that.'

'It is.' She admitted. 'But then I should have told him the truth in the first place. I brought this all onto myself.'

'You've done nothing wrong. You're just trying to protect him.'

Once that point had been settled, a silence stretched through them, not daring to uplifted or release it. But that was for only as long as Winry chose to think and choose her words. Once they had been decided upon, she began to let her words wheel off the end of her tongue.

'Soon after finishing the book, did you read Edward's book? "Second Heartbeat?"'

'Yes.' He grinned. 'I did.'

'Well, do you remember the theory that had been thought of shortly after he had come out of his coma?'

'That all the things that happened in the coma were being influenced by the outside world. Yes, I remember that. It even prophesised his death. But do you have a point to why you've brought it up?'

'Y-Yes actually. Lately, I've been having these dreams. They all seem to carry straight on from Edward's coma left off. But right before I wake up, you always tell me something that doesn't make any sense.'

'Well, things that don't make any sense often happen in our dreams.' Hohenheim shrugged away the concern as if it didn't matter much.

'But listen! The next day, the same line is then mentioned in THIS reality! It's happened without fail since a few days ago. I'll even write down the lines for you.' With such urgency in her voice, she couldn't feel like these lines were just coincidences, especially when her husband was involved. Grabbing for paper and a pen, she wrote down each line. Once all had been scrolled down she handed the paper over to him. As his eyes followed each letter, they dilated with a somewhat fearful look in them.

'Well?'

'D-Did you have another one of these dreams last night?' Hohenheim asked insistently.

'Yes. Only, like the one before, Edward told me the lines.'

'Well, if your dreams carry on from Edward's death in the coma then why is he alive?'

'You brought him back to life using the method.'

'And the line in last night's dream. Has it been mentioned at all today?'

'No, but whenever they were mentioned they were usually by different media. There was Nicholas, a letter and then the radio.' With this conclusion, Hohenheim thought for a moment.

'What about the TV?'

Suddenly, both stood up and rushed to the living room, but they entered in a relaxed manner and they sat down on the sofa behind Nicholas, who was sat on the floor. They couldn't give away any reason of suspicion to him.

'What are you watching?' Winry asked.

'Just the karate tournament "Tenshintaru kumite!"' Nicholas answered with excitement brimming in his being.

The three watched as the programme was being introduced, the presenter introducing as was his job.

"Here at the Tenshintaru kumite tournament in Dublith we have some amazing fighters turning up from all over Amestris! From the Eastern Amestris area, in the men's division, we have Willis Smithe, aged 27. This guy may only be a newbie to these tournaments but he has shown some promising skills in the local competitions leading up to this day!" The screen flickered before showing a picture of a man with short black hair, brown eyes and a fierce smile.

"But his first opponent today is very much an experienced contender in these tournament brawls and has been to tournaments such as Hakuga, Mokotu and Kaiten. Yes this is none other that Nigel Farlander! This 29 year old may be smaller than Willis but in that small frame is experience, strength and skill!" Once again the TV flickered and shown before them was the image of the fighter. Adorned on his image was golden hair that carried within it streaks of purple that coursed through. All was clipped back and the bangs that fell from the middle parting were excluded from it. His golden eyes, as did his grin, shown through with determination. But there was something strange about what held residence on his throat. It could easily have been passed of as a birthmark but the intricacy of it did not make it appear so. It was a deep red colour that was shaped into a circle. But the circle itself looked more like a snake that was biting its tail. A pair of wings hovered above it and in the middle was a six-point star. Winry's eyes couldn't help but settle onto it, for it looked so much like a tattoo she unfortunately knew all too well. His face too held limitations of similarity within it, as if it was one she had longed to see in all too long.

The two fighters, Willis and Nigel made their way to the centre of the square wing. Both were clothed in a white karategi while Nigel wore the aka belt and Willis a shiro belt, to show clearly their oppositions. By seeing now Nigel's full form, Winry was disappointed to see not a hint of auto-mail built onto that structure. He couldn't be her beloved husband.

The two fighters shook shuck hands and after which bowed parting to get into their starting stances. But something else was odd about Nigel. You could see it in his face. Without warning, tears began to trickle down his red cheeks and the opponent couldn't help but laugh at this so blatant sign of weakness. It was a pathetic sight to see.

'I bet he loses.' Winry smirked smugly. 'Look at him, crying.'

'Don't let his tears fool you!' Nicholas laughed; obviously he'd seen these fights before. 'He does it at the beginning of every match but he still wins. Just watch.'

"The two fighters are ready at the bell." The presenter stated. "Three, two, one…" The bell rang but, before Willis could make a single move, Nigel dashed forward. Jumping onto his left knee, and then up onto his right shoulder, he sent a right foot kick into his opponents chest and so sent him toppling well out of the ring. The round was over in a matter of seconds and Nigel was proclaimed the victor. "And that's Nigel Farlander! Power of all!"

The line struck her as recognisable and, without another word, she quietly signalled for Hohenheim to follow and quietly they left Nicholas to watch the fighter get ready to fight again.

Back in the kitchen, 'That was the line!' Winry informed with urgency heating up in her voice. 'Power of all!'

'So if they're put into order… they say, "Beginning of all, but last to come. Joined by blood to the evil ones. Power of all…"'

'Do you think there could be more to it?' She asked in wonderment.

'I think so.' Hohenheim answered. "The lines do sound familiar somehow." He thought to himself.

'But did you notice as well? The fighter, Nigel Farlander, he looked so much like Edward! But not only that! On his throat! That was the ouroboros tattoo!'

'It could just be a tattoo.' Hohenheim said defensively, 'and even if he WAS a Homunculus, he's a pretty pathetic. I've never known a Homunculus to cry like that, or even cry at all for that matter.'

'But, he looked so much like Edward! How could that be? Th-those same g-gold eyes.' She collapsed herself into a kitchen chair, the tears dripping profusely down her cheeks and now all she could was break down and cry. Making her think that someone was wearing her beloved's face, someone she didn't know or originally care for was just too much.

'Do YOU know something about this?' The irritation and sadness that had been built up inside her could no longer be repressed and now it was spilling out at Hohenheim in a sick dilution of rage. The tears continued to fall, just as they had done with Nigel, as she glared at Hohenheim, never leaving those orbs. It seemed like no one could stray from Hohenheim's golden eyes today.

'I'm afraid…I cannot answer your question. To do so may risk lives.' Collecting up his bag from the side of his chair he turned and left for the door.

'Wait! Where are you going?' She asked, trying to dry the tears.

'I have places to be and not enough time to get there.'

'So that's it. You're going to run away without saying goodbye? But that shouldn't surprise me! You're already so good at it anyway!' She shot at him angrily.

'I'm sorry to leave you so soon but I have important things to attend to. Thank you for welcoming me in.' with that established, Hohenheim left as quickly as he came without leaving a trace of himself there except for memories.

Sauntering into the kitchen, Nicholas found an open door and no trace of his grandfather that was once here.

'Where's grandfather gone?' Nicholas asked.

'He had places to be. He just took off.' She explained in a small voice.

'Oh. I guess it must run in the family. That must be where dad got his cowardly abilities from.' Nicholas shrugged and left his mother in the kitchen as he left for the living room. She hated to hear her son bad-mouth his father and grandfather like that but she couldn't really blame him for it.

Author's note: And so, with the death of an old character, comes the birth of another one.

Ophelia Davis


	10. Mixed up

-Tenshintaru kumite tournament-

After two hours worth of battles, the tournament had drawn to a close and now many fighters exited the stadium with most of them cloaked in bandages and cradlings wounds while their senseis were either supporting them or giving them a sore telling off. But that wasn't so for Nigel Farlander. He'd just managed to secure 2nd place, for he had lost his last battle after the now 1st place contender had forced him out of the ring. Even though it was a sore loss, he decided not to let the defeat bother him.

Walking along side him to the car was his mother/sensei Mylinda Farlander. She was a head height taller than her son and, judging by appearances, she was in her early 50s. She had long curly brown hair, dark eyes and glasses. Wrinkles were an unfortunate decoration for her face but that didn't stop her from smiling brightly and cheerfully. As mother and son, they had no kind of resemblance to each other, but that didn't get in the way of their strong bond one bit.

Climbing into the car, Nigel threw his training bag into the back seat, which contained his 2nd place medal and with that he strapped himself into the front seat. Once the car had started, Mrs Farlander's face had diffused quickly from a smile into a frown.

'You were crying again.' She groaned.

'I didn't want to hurt them. I just felt guilty knowing that, if something severe happened to my opponents, I would be held responsible.' Nigel kept his gaze averted away from his mother's.

'But that won't happen because you know how to keep yourself under control.' She reassured. 'But I don't see why you should cry all the time. It was understandable when you were a kid but at 29? That's just getting out of hand.'

'I know but I can't help myself!'

'Well you'd better start helping yourself! I don't want to see my champion blubbering every time someone so much as MENTIONS the word fight!'

'Yes mom.' Nigel sighed resignedly. 'But still.' He grinned. '2nd place, not bad, huh?' Seeing her son smile always made her own face brighten.

'Yes. Not bad at all.' She loved her son to pieces and she'd be lost without him. She would always remember how, before Nigel's birth, she and her husband felt so lonely. They themselves were unable to have children so, after a long while searching, the found and sought the help of a doctor after all else failed. This was their last shot of parenthood before they could finally admit defeat. This doctor was able to, with an experimental method, make her pregnant. After the duration period she gave birth to her son, Nigel; he was their own little miracle. It was strange how he was BORN with purple streaks in his hair and a strangely detailed birthmark on his throat, but after the doctor pronounced it harmless they could relax and settle into family life. To her, these defects just made him all the more special.

'You know what? I bet your crying all the time because you haven't even got a girlfriend.' She teased playfully.

'It's not that at all.' Nigel said defensively. 'Besides, I don't need one. I'm fine as I am.'

'Well who else is going to get me some grandchildren?' She chuckled.

'Grandchildren?! I'm not thinking about doing anything like THAT!'

'Well if you leave it too long you'll NEVER get married!'

'But I AM married!' Nigel burst out suddenly. As the words echoed in her ears, she quickly pulled her car up at the side of the road, her anger building up at a shocking speed. She turned on him quickly, her face red with her rage.

'WHAT?!' She fumed. 'Don't start that again!' She grabbed a hold of her son's shoulders, holding him there as if to refrain him from turning his head away from her dark penetrating eyes. 'You're always getting dreams and memories mixed up, but you have to understand that none of those things happened! You dreamed them up and you want them to happen so much that you BELIEVE they happened!'

'But they really did!'

'No they didn't!'

'But she's a real person! The last time I saw her she was pregnant with my child!'

'You did NOT get anyone pregnant!' She screamed at him, almost shaking him about.

Nigel had lost his patience now, he had had just about enough and he had heard more than he could take; now pulling off the offending hands from his shoulders. 'If you won't believe me then I'm jogging back home!'

'Fine! I don't want to be in the same car as a liar!' She screamed. Stretching over to open Nigel's car door, she ordered, 'Out!'

'Don't mind if I do!' Nigel shot back sarcastically. Climbing out, he slammed the car door shut behind him and began his jog back home.

Mylinda hated shouting at Nigel, but she also hated liars. And to have a liar for her son, had she made a list, would be the worst thing to wish for.

Author's note: Again so for the late updates, but I should be able to update more often now.


	11. Dr Hohenheim

As Mylinda ambled through the door of their home, she found the towering golden blond figure of Dr Hohenheim sat on the sofa next to Nigel. The two were playing with a pack of cards that were set up as a deck on the coffee table in front of them with a serene calmness.

Before returning home, she had just managed to calm herself down but now the rage that had heated up in her before had made its inelegant return in the form of a frown that pressed itself upon her face.

'Ah, Dr Hohenheim. I see Nigel made it back. And it's lucky you're here. He's been telling down-right lies again.' Her voice held within itself a cold frigidness.

'But I DID get married!'

'If that's so then where's your wedding ring?'

'Someone must have stolen it!' He shot back defiantly.

'And if you're so smart, then where did you get married?'

'In Resembool!'

'You've never been to Resembool in your life!' She shrieked.

'Of course I have! BEFORE I came to live with you!'

'BEFORE you came to live with us?! I gave birth to you! There WAS no before! Stop you filthy lies!' the rage rose in her throat revealing itself as screams and shrieks.

'I know you did! I remember it all! But before, I was a 16 year old with an auto-mail arm and leg; I was a state alchemist!'

'That's not true! You're name is Nigel Gate Farlander, you've always had your arm and leg and you've never even TRIED alchemy!' tears were beginning to well up in her eyes, for she wanted so much for her son to see sense and give into the truth.

'If that's so then when do I look more like the doctor than you!' his defiance was great and it made his finger shake as he pointed up at the doctor. She could see the resemblance now. She didn't know why she hadn't noticed it before and now it was coming to light. 'You see the resemblance don't you?! We both have blond hair, gold eyes and the same face shape!' Mylinda's eyes grew wide with the comprehension as the resemblance between the doctor and her son seemed now to stare her in the face. She couldn't believe how blind she had been to it before. Now she could see that their faces were uncanny.

'Hohenheim? Do you have something to do with this?' Her voice had fallen calmer now but still it was shaky as she tried to swallow back the tears.

'I'll speak with privately in the other room.' The elder man murmured to Mylinda.

'No!' Nigel interrupted. 'If it's about me then I want to hear it!'

'I guess he does have a right to know about his own past.' Hohenheim sighed. 'In the past, you used to be my son, Edward Elric and, before you died you wrote a book called Second Heartbeat. You were killed as you were writing the afterword.' Quietly, Nigel searched through his mind to see if such a memory existed.

'Yes! I remember! I can remember being murdered by three people. They made me tell them something that I had read before from Tim Marcoh's "1000 meals for daily living".'

'Can you still remember what they wanted you to tell them?' Hohenheim asked.

'I think so. I think it's… "Beginning of all, but last to come, joined by blood to the evil ones. Power of all…" And that's all I can remember. I know there was another line but it's been a while. I'm surprised I remembered THAT much.'

'S-So you're not lying?' Mylinda stuttered.

'That's what I've been trying to tell you!' Nigel shot back.

'But Hohenheim! How did you get me pregnant with him?' she asked, a look of puzzlement was clear on her face.

'I took an extract of DNA from Edward's brain when he died and implanted it months later into your womb.'

'But, when it came to implanting you told us that you were using mine and my husband's DNA.'

'I used an egg cell of yours but your husband's I simply discarded. It wasn't necessary in the procedure and if I used it, then it would just get in the way of the cloning.'

'You still could've told us who he was before. Right?'

'If I did then you wouldn't truly love him as your own; I gave Edward new life knowing full well that he would love me as a father. But I still did it knowing full well that he wouldn't love me as a father but I still did it knowing that I was giving you new hope for the future. I was just trying to make everyone happy.' He sighed finally.

'…Do you know why Nigel has these defects?' Mylinda finally asked after a long stretch of somewhat perpetual silence.

'I left it too long to extract the DNA so it was weaker then I would've liked it to be, and leaving it for months to implant the DNA wasn't a smart move either. I guess the weakness gave Nigel the purple streaks but, the birthmark I'm still unsure of.'

'Does my wife know that I'm alive?' Nigel asked.

'She suspects that you are but otherwise no, she thinks you're dead.'

'So this wife of his is a real person?' Mylinda asked.

'Yes. It so happens that I have a picture of her with her son.' Taking out a photo from his coat pocket, she showed it to Nigel. There he found a picture of a woman with long blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes. She looked older then he last remembered her but there was no mistaking her appearance. By her side stood a small teenage boy, who gave a mischievous smirk. He had short platinum blond hair and those unmistakably golden eyes. Nigel could see the resemblance immediately.

'Is that my-?'

'Yes. Your son, Nicholas Isaac Elric.'

Tears sprang up in Nigel's eyes for the hundred odd times today. He already felt like he loved them both just upon a glance of them in the photo, but it made him realise how much he missed them. He wanted so much to see them at last.

'You know Nicholas has seen you fight on TV. He really admires you.'

'R-Really?' A smile popped up on his face. 'He does?'

'Of course, you should have seen his face when he watched your first match against you and Willis.'

'Yeah.' Nigel sighed. ' I should've been there. I should've always been there…I want to see him!' He decided suddenly.

'No! You mustn't! If you do then you're just bringing trouble! She thinks you're dead and turning up alive will just bring confusion! Nicholas may think you're alive but whom's he going to recognise first? The martial artist Nigel Farlander or his father Edward Elric? Besides, Nicholas already hates his father for not being there for him! He's always going to hate you!' He knew the instructions were cruel but they had to and needed to be said.

'B-But I…'

'I know you want to see him and I know I don't have the right to tell you not to but understand this. You will see him when the time is right, but for now, stay away.'

'Yes Hohenheim.' He sighed with a saddened face. 'But can I ask? What happened to my wedding ring?'

Hohenheim gave a little chuckle. 'Of course.' he smiled. 'I kept it with me all this time.' Reaching into another coat pocket, he took out the gold ring.

'Here. I kept it in this pocket for 13 years. I figured you might want it so I kept it just in case.' Hohenheim passed it over to Nigel, who instinctively slid it onto the third finger of his left hand.

'It still fits?' Nigel wondered. He would've been sure that the ring would've been a tight fit. He was 16 the last time he wore it after all.

'Every time you grew I upped the ring a size.' Hohenheim smiled.

'Thanks.' He said with gratitude.

Checking his watch as the silence purveyed across the room, he began to collect up his bag.

'Well I'd better get going. I think I've out stayed my welcome.' He smiled as he got up to leave. 'Oh. Before I forget.' Taking a book out of his bag, he handed it over to Nigel. 'This is a copy of the book you were writing. It's an interesting read.' Nigel glared at the cover with interest.

'So, this is like an autobiography?'

'In a way yes, and the first 42 chapters are about what happened while you were…I'll not spoil the ending for you. But do look. I think you'll find it quite…enlightening.'

Hohenheim stepped over to the door and, after quick goodbyes he left the house.

'Nigel? I'm sorry I doubted you.' Mylinda tried to apologise but they were unfortunately ignored. Nigel was already reading the book and he's attention was being absorbed into the life that he once lived. His focus could not be broken and Mylinda had to admit defeat to ever catching his attention.


	12. Greatest Flaw

The wall still surrounded Hohenheim in that private maternity room; it trapped him in that corner leaving only the darkness to keep his company. But, with a clap of his hands, he pressed them upon the wall and his chosen shape and section of wall fell away to reveal a simple doorway into the room. Stepping through the door, he found the newborn baby cuddling up to Winry and, she in turn, loved him back.

_But that wasn't all that greeted him. Pools of blood adorned the floor. Two bodies lay still, the bodies now pale. One of the doctors, looked beyond repair now anyway, his eye jelly hardened on his face, blood poured from where his nose once was and his jaw was now non-existent. Blood and tears diluted together to make a red lumpy mess on his face. Dr Cameron clutched her wrist with throbbing as generous amounts of blood still poured from it. _

_With caution, Hohenheim stepped over towards the mother and newborn knowing full well the damage and agony the baby had caused and slowly he took up a chair and kneeled down next to Winry on the opposite side of the doctor's death floor. Seeing the new figure, the newborn narrowed his eyes and clung himself closer to his mother possessively. _

'_She's MY mother.' He hissed. 'And you can't have her!' _

'_You're welcome to her.' Hohenheim ridiculed putting on a face of disgust, as if ignoring the baby's possessive ways. 'But look at these people on the floor now.' Hohenheim prized him away from Winry, and cradling the baby in his arms, he showed him around the lifeless forms. 'Edward. Two you've killed and one is still writhing for life. They brought you into the world and you sent them to their graves!' his harsh loathing tone thrummed through the child, arresting the baby into listening. Looking once again upon the well-suffered forms, his form was filled with anguish. It was like he could feel each person's pain and agony, and it pulling at his normally hardened heartstrings. Even though he had become a monster, his heart softened so easily to the pains of others and the prospect that he was going to cause more of it. Now, for the second time, the floodgates of his eyes reopened and the room filled with wretched cries for sorrow, anguish and his own self-loathing. Edward cried for the poor souls that he had made suffer and he felt truly sorry for what he had done. Nothing could console him. _

_Hohenheim, with saddened eyes, passed the sorrow-filled newborn back to Winry and sighed, 'He's a Homunculus…But with greatest flaw.' _

'_Hohenheim?' Winry asked. 'What IS the greatest flaw?' But the carpet of darkness encircled her once again, and she was alone from the world she was once in. _

Author's note: Sorry for not updating for a while. I had lost my pencil case with my memory stick in it for a week and it turned out it was in my bed the whole time, so I'm kind of stoked. Yes, this chapter is short, but I don't think it matters that much as long as it tells the story for you. Thanks for reading.

Ophelia Davis


	13. Discovery In Silver And Gold

Another line had forced its way into Winry's dream. Edward's pained cries still echoed in her mind as he cried for the dead and dying. No matter what she tried in the endeavour to rid herself of it they still haunted her and they wouldn't leave her in peace. The words of Hohenheim were clear in her mind.

"But with greatest flaw."

On the paper that had already written on it the other lines from past nights, she scribbled down the most latterly discovered line from her dream. Glimpsing at them now, she read them in her head, "Beginning of all, but last to come. Joined by blood to the evil ones. Power of all, but with greatest flaw."

Now that the lines seemed complete, she knew that deciphering these words would be a task in itself, because together they fitted like a jigsaw puzzle. They felt…special and urgent…like a story…or a poem? But what they could mean was still a mystery to her. Her mind wandered and tried to weave itself through the identity of the first phrase. Maybe-.

'Mom!' Nicholas call had interrupted her thoughts. 'You just told me that we're tidying the house! What am I doing?' Nicholas' temper fired up with impatience from having to wait for intended orders that were meant to present themselves immediately

'Oh! Sorry. My mind was somewhere else.' She apologised with a smile.

'I'll say.' Nicholas muttered rudely.

'Anyway, I want you to tidy up upstairs. That includes your room, the bathroom and the top of the stairs. Oh, and please remember to stay out of my room if you don't mind.' Winry instructed.

'I might as well clean up the whole damn house while I'm at it!' Nicholas moaned.

'No. Just where I've told you will be fine.' Winry sighed. 'If I clean up downstairs then we'll be done quicker. Ok?'

'I guess.' He sighed finally.

'That's a good boy. Now get started please.' Nicholas trudged upstairs, leaving Winry still stood in the living room.

'First things first, sorting out the newspapers.' By her chair in the living room, she kept in a basket her own hoard of newspapers. She always seemed to keep them there, like a dragon hoarded its jewels and treasures. Piles of newspapers overflowed from the woven basket and, more the recent ones were stacked at the side of it. Picking up the first one from the basket, she read the headline, "But where's the money?" Winry could remember that old piece of news. The government wasn't paying money towards the hospitals and there was, instead, a scandal where the money from taxes were going towards the luxuries of those working within the government.

She read the second headline, "No one to be with at Christmas" with interest. It was around then that the recent religion of Christianity was starting to arrange its days on the calendar. Around winter, around the week where Christianity called a certain day, "Christmas", a survey had taken place and it showed that 25% more couples got divorces around that time.

The third line was also memorable. "Who's the greatest?" This snippet of news talked of a TV competition to see who the greatest alchemist was. This competition had taken place after Edward's death and, even though then she was too upset to watch it, she chuckled to herself now knowing that Edward would have jokingly waved away the show proclaiming that HE was the greatest alchemist. But he wasn't alive long enough to make such a proclamation.

The last newspaper she had in her hand read, "Warning: Slippery floor." This was, instead of a fond memory, more of a debate on how more precautions such as warning signs should be used in public places. For the record, the government felt that the public were being too cautious and they were just building up anxiety over nothing. Needless to say, it never caught on.

Absent minded, she dropped them on the floor. Newspaper pages were strained across the carpet and, hurriedly, she got on her knees to clean up the mess. But as they fell to the floor, they fell into a position where the pages overlapped themselves to create a new headline. Winry could only stare at it knowing that she had heard it all before fairly recently. The headline now read, "But with greatest floor." Even though the last word was slightly miss-spelt. She could see that how it was read would still sound the same as the nonsensical line from her dream.

All the lines that had been recalled to her had met her again in reality. They couldn't be considered coincidences now and together they held meaning. But now was the still presented trouble of deciphering its code. But admittedly, that job would have to be left for later when the timing was much more reasonable.

Upstairs, Nicholas wasn't plagued by such traumas but, instead, was having to face the trouble of tackling the hoover to the top of the stairs. The wheel of the hoover often got stiff and so pushing it along the carpet was harder than first contemplated. As he pushed it along, the dragging wheels lead him to a new room; it was one that he had never been in before and one that he had never been told to go in. He had never before been told to even hoover the floor of it, for that job was always left to him mom to do. It was like she was so secretive and the secrets in those four walls were meant for her eyes only. But that was far from his mind. It was a wonder to finally step foot in it.

Laying the hoover down on the floor, he began to wander across the soft carpet in order to get a closer look at what the only residence of it kept within. Photos adorned the walls but they were, as far as he could see, of him and his mother. There seemed to be none of his father, none of that mysterious man that he had never met before in his life. Looking more around the medium-sized room, there were a couple of small bookshelves that were placed against the wall, and, just as Nicholas had expected, they were all about auto-mail. He could remember how his mom tried to get him into studying auto-mail but he had no such interest or motivation to learn and so the attempt was soon abandoned.

The bed inside the room was that of a double bed but the quilt had not been given a cover to reside in and neither had the pillows. There weren't even the sheets over the mattress. It was strange for him to see that his normally organized and tidy mother wasn't even bothered to make her bed, even though Nicholas was often ordered by his mom to do so. It was hypocritical, but seeing now as well how dusty and strangely neglected the place was, it made him wonder how lonely his mom must feel without his dad around. Also, seeing the depressing state of the room made him hate his dad for leaving them even more. Nicholas sat down on the hard mattress of the bed and, sadly, he contemplated his mom's loneliness rather than his own.

Suddenly, his eyes fell upon something poking out from underneath the bare pillows. Pulling out the thick object with a hint of curiosity flecked in his eyes, he found a book.

Embossed letters of a silvery colour adorned the front cover with the words, "Second Heartbeat". It was a strange title that covered a completely black cover. There was no design, cover or picture on it. Tracing his fingers along the embossed letters of the bind, he found once again the title but this time accompanied by the author's name, "Edward Elric".

The author shared Nicholas' surname. Assuming that the surname was rare, he quickly admitted that he'd never heard of a relative called Edward before, but already his interest to know more had already perked up to who it could possibly be. Opening up the hardback cover, he found silvery writing upon black paper that read, "Based on true events that were and felt as real to me as you holding this book now." Following the quote, a golden-penned signature curled beneath it in the letters of _Edward Elric. _

The next black-papered page was just as puzzling as the first one as, in italic silver typed letters it read, "_Written in memory of Edward and Alphonse Elric."_

"There's more than one Elric I don't know about?" Nicholas wondered with suspicion. "And it's in memory too, so whoever they were, they died!" this was all new to him. He'd just found out about some relatives he never knew and he never got to know them.

"There must be something strange about them too. Why would mom hide the book and never tell me to go in her room? What is she trying to hide from me?"

Suddenly, he could hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. Nicholas could feel the panic rise up in his being, flaring unrelentless. He knew that if she found him in her bedroom then there would be hell to pay. Quickly, jumping up from the bed, he dragged the hoover from the room, hid the book under his own pillow and dodged back to the top of the stairs to await a mother stepping onto the landing.

'Are you done?' Winry asked.

'Are you kidding?! Of course not! I've got a lot more to do yet!'

'Well keep going or you won't get your pocket money.' She answered cheerfully, ignoring the rude comebacks.

After a moments thought, Nicholas knew now would be the time to ask, 'Mom? Do I have any relatives? You know…from my dad's side?'

'Hm…Not really. Why do you ask?'

'I was just wondering. I mean, the only one I know of is Hohenheim and I was just wondering if there was anything more to it.'

'Well…Now that I think about, you HAD an Uncle Alphonse.'

"So Alphonse is my uncle? That's new."

'Had? How did he die?' Nicholas asked, puckering up his more respectful tone.

'He died from a car accident before you were born.' Winry admitted sadly.

'Oh.' Came his quiet answer. He knew now one of the men mentioned. He had an Uncle Alphonse that much was confirmed, but who was Edward? Was he a different man or his…Nicholas couldn't bear to think that latter could possibly be true. He didn't want to think that his mom had lied to him all this time about something so serious. He didn't know how else he'd find out about this Edward but he had a funny feeling that his book would tell him the answers. Once the book had been read cover to cover then he would be prepared to drop that bombshell of a question. 

Author's note: A new discovery! This is getting exciting. But since I know what's going to happen, I won't put up the next chapter just yet. I might make you wait a little. Also, I'm glad I'm still getting some reviews for Second Heartbeat, but I haven't yet got anymore reviews for this story. Hopefully someone will come along and comment on it soon. Good or bad, I don't mind, but helpful criticism please.

Ophelia Davis


	14. Liar

That night, Nicholas could only read that book; even when he felt his eyes begin to droop he still carried on ploughing though the pages. It was like his eyes were glued to the black ink letters with undeletable interest. He even kept his overhead light on when his mom came and switched the main light off, just so that he could carry on reading the literature that had been reproduced from the brain of Edward Elric. He could see now that the existence of Edward was apparent to Winry, as they were childhood friends and it was perfectly clear that Edward and Alphonse were brothers, despite Alphonse's soul being locked in a suit of armour, which was only detectable by him from the reading of many alchemy books in past free time experiences.

He still didn't want to believe that they were both brothers because then that would confirm the very notion that Edward was his father and that would the truth that he's dead. He really wanted that detail to be a joke that was especially planned out by Edward. Nicholas was practically living on the hope that his father would come back to him and, without that hope, he felt so empty.

-That morning-

Nicholas had no wink of sleep and, by the morning he had just finished reading the last page. It was the second afterword that his mother had planned into it. Sweat clung to his brow and tears were staining his cheeks quickly. The first had left a tingle of fear inside him to rekindle as his eyes fell onto the jumble of letters that came up all of a sudden before finally the pages of periods that adorned each line fiercely. The newspaper report confirmed the sudden break out of letters and periods by sticking on the conclusion of murder. Even the words of his own mother betrayed that Edward was killed tragically and horribly.

But, what hurt the most was seeing the dead face bore into him emptily from the news report picture. Four scars had dug deep into his face and blood from them stained like red ink spillages into cartridge paper. It hurt even more when the creeping thought that the face staring back at him could easily be mistaken for his own, as if it was Nicholas staring back with the vacancy of life-light in his eyes. His and the boy's faces were so alike as if they were brothers. But they weren't they were father and son. Nicholas had finally seen his father's face for the first time ever and it carried with them the eyes of the dead and the scars of the damned.

His hands shook from the tears and they kept doing so until he dropped the book onto his covers. He couldn't bear to bottle up these feelings and he felt like he was going to explode with rage, but he knew it would only be a matter of time until that happened.

He could hear the ever-growing sound of footsteps as they made their way to his room. Slowly, his mother stepped inside the room now and seeing Nicholas' tearful face, her own filled with worry and fear for him.

'What's wrong?' She asked.

'Y-YOU LIED TO ME!' Nicholas screamed down his wrath upon her as he stood up on his bed.

'What? What do you mean?'

'FOR 13 YEARS YOU KEPT THIS BOOK AWAY FROM ME! YOU HID THE FACTS FROM ME AND FED ME LIES AND EXCUSES TO DETER MY MIND FROM THE TRUTH!'

'Th-The truth?' for the first time in her life she was terrified of her son. The face of wrath burned bright on the surface of Nicholas and there was no way she could see to putting out that bonfire.

'YES! THE TRUTH THAT MY DAD IS DEAD!!! WHENEVER I ASKED WHERE HE WAS HE WAS REALLY ROTTING IN HELL! YOU HID IT ME FOR ALL THIS TIME YOU SICK BITCH!'

Tears crept down her cheeks from her son's piercing words.

'I HATE YOU! YOU DESERVE TO JOIN HIM IN HELL! I WISH YOU WERE DEAD! IN FACT, I WISH _I _WAS DEAD SO THAT I WOULDN'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOUR FILTHY LIESS!!!'

'P-Please

Nicholas.' Winry cried feebly. 'Don't say things like that.' She tried to near closer to her son but was soon stopped.

'ONE MORE STEP BITCH AND I'LL TEAR UP THE BOOK!' Nicholas quickly took up the book in his hands and poised himself ready to tear up the first few pages of it.

'P-Please don't.' She pleaded. Tears flowed down her cheeks from the fear that the one permanent memory of Edward was going to be destroyed. 'It's the only thing I have left of him. Please don't take that away from me!' His mother cried.

'And why shouldn't I?' It was a surprise to see that he wasn't shouting anymore but his words were still presented with a smirk as he still holding the book ready to be torn. 'You took the truth away from _me_ so why shouldn't I do the same?'

'Because dead or alive he's still my husband, he's still your father and he's still my love! He died for us and I don't ever want to let go of that memory! Please don't take away the one thing I have left to hold onto!' she pleaded and more tears flowed down her face.

A look of disbelief and rage spread across his face as his mother's words struck him through to the core.

'You value this piece of shit more than me?! The reason you haven't bothered to hang yourself yet is because of this book and not your own son?!'

She gasped. Only now did she realise how lethal her supposedly persuasive words were. Purely by accident had she chosen material possession over her own child.

'Well this is what I think of your "reason for living"!' The horrible sound of ripping noises filled the air as the pages were torn right in his mother's view. As the pages tore shut her eyes to the sight and she tried to cover her ears to the monstrosity of it.

'OPEN YOUR EYES BITCH!' Nicholas screamed as he carried on tearing through the paper. 'I WANT YOU TO SEE THIS! _I'M _NOT HIDING THINGS FROM YOU!' he let the torn pages scatter onto his bed as more followed. Soon all the torn and the hardback covers were bent from the failed endeavour of destroying them.

'WHO'S TOUGH NOW HUH?!' Nicholas screamed mockingly at the pages. 'ROT! ROT IN HELL! DIE!'

Gathering up the pages from his quilts. He jumped down from his bed and thrust the remnants of the pages into his mother's face.

'Let's see what lies you can conjure up from that!' He spat in her face leaving her totally ashamed, scared and humiliated. She escaped to her room and did not leave it. But it was also like she couldn't. She was too scared of what her son would or might do next.


	15. Rotting In Hell

Nicholas was back from school. The air was still tense between both mother and son, but none could sense the conceiving of an apology from either one of them. They were never long in each other's presence and, whenever their paths crossed, Nicholas gave his mother a cold and unyielding stare. Winry could tell that she was not wanted outside the confines of her room, but the only reason she had broken free from those punishing white walls was because she was expecting a visitor. She didn't want to disappoint anymore or anyone. That was her only motivation she needed to get away from her coverless bed quilt.

It soon wasn't long before the bell rang and that air of silence was finally broken. The tall figure stood in the kitchen as, he knew quite well, he was allowed into the house without the permission of a volunteering door opener, of which either Winry or Nicholas would be candidates.

'Hey there Nicholas.' Hohenheim smiled cheerfully. 'Has your father made any contact with you yet?' He was blissfully unaware, for how could he know the situation that was present this morning? Winry had not yet breathed a word of it to him.

'NO! HE'S ROTTING IN HELL!' Nicholas' screams of protestation filled up his open area for response and more besides with ease. With that he stomped through to the stairway, up the stairs and slammed the door. His footsteps were clearly heard as he made his way to his room.

'Where did that come from?' As before, Hohenheim was still unaware.

'He found out…about Ed.' Her reply came as poignant as were the sparkling wetness that covered her eyes like cling film. They were only dregs left in her pool of tears.

'He found the book?' Even if the air was full of distress, his questioning voice was still the calm in the middle of the storm.

'Yes, and he ripped it up this morning. Every last page.' Winry couldn't bring herself to cry over the tragedy. She'd run out of tears to cry with as if their reservoir was suffering a temporary drought. 'And he hates me for lying to him so you can see why I'm not so popular.'

'It's ok Winry.' Hohenheim comforted her with a reassuring embrace. 'You'll get through it.'

'I-I just don't know what to do anymore! Nicholas has always been so angry but never like _this_! It's like I've lost complete control of him!'

'Don't worry. Things WILL get better. I promise.' Still his voice held a state of composed constitution.

'R-Really?'

Hohenheim nodded in response; letting go of Winry, he sat himself down at the table.

'Has anything else happened while I was gone?'

'I got another dream. "But with greatest flaw." Winry quoted, but even though this strode away from the subject of Nicholas she still didn't let up a smile.

'I see. I understand what the lines are now. I had read them before in a book somewhere and they are the words of a prophecy.' Hohenheim concluded smoothly.

'A prophecy?'

'Yes. Something foretells the events of the future. What you have heard will happen sometime in the future, and the fact it was told to you means that it must have something to do you. Also that it was told now means that it must be soon.' Hohenheim explained though still holding composure.

'What do you think it means then?' Winry asked.

'Well…' Thinking for a moment. 'If we try and work it out now we'll have some chance of preparing for the future wherever we can.' Winry, taking up a pen and a piece of paper, she scribbled down the lines.

'Let's start from the beginning. "Beginning of all." Winry quoted.

'Ok. It's obviously something that started it all off. But what "all" could be I'm not sure about.'

'Next line then. "But last to come." That doesn't make sense! If this event started it all off then why does it come last? Why AFTER it all?'

'Well this a prophecy after all, it doesn't have to make sense when you first hear it, but strangely all the pieces fit together when you have the answer.'

'It still doesn't make sense. Ok, "Joined by blood to the evil ones".'

'Ah! That's easier than the first two. It must be talking of a "being".'

'A being? How'd you come to that conclusion?'

'If something's "Joined by blood" then it must mean that, whoever it is, is related to the "evil ones", whoever THEY are.'

'So if we knew who these evil ones were then we'd have a better chance at solving the rest.'

'The Homunculi.' Hohenheim announced.

'What?! Are you sure?'

'Could you think of no other? They're without a doubt evil and despicable creatures.' Hohenheim's voice was filled with contempt for the vile beings.

'If this being is related to the Homunculi…' Winry's eyes suddenly grew wide with realisation.

'Then it would be a Homunculus itself.' Hohenheim finished. Now fear was grappling with the two. It was hard to think that there could be another Homunculus when all of the other's disgusting deeds were put into consideration.

'N-Next one.' Winry begin, trying to put her fear aside. '"Power of all".'

'This Homunculus will be worse than the others. It's obvious in the lines that it has seven of the Homunculi's powers.'

'O-Ok. "But with greatest flaw".' She quoted.

'It sounds like this one has a weakness that balances out its many strengths.'

'It sounds correct, but the prophecy sounds incomplete. It tells of a Homunculus but it doesn't say whether the outcome will be joyous or full of devastation.'

'-Sigh- Maybe if we work out the first two lines then we might know more?'

'Ok. "Beginning of all." We can assume then that this Homunculus started the creation of all the other Homunculi.' Hohenheim quickly explained.

' "Last to come".'

'Well…we have all the other Homunculi so the next time a Homunculus _is _being created it will be the eighth one.'

Winry let her new thoughts take over. 'Or maybe it's already been created.'

'What do you mean?' Hohenheim asked in puzzlement.

'Can you remember how the fighter, Nigel Farlander had that birthmark on his throat? It looked just like the ouroboros tattoo. And when he fought he cried, as if he didn't want to do it in the first place.'

'You could be right. But apart from that we don't know how he's related to the other Homunculi.'

'But really we don't know much about him at all. Just that he's involved somehow.'

'I guess that answer will come when it does.' Hohenheim sighed. 'I'd better be on my way. Say goodbye to Nicholas for me.'

'Ok. Thank you for helping me work this out.'

'No worries, and Winry, It WILL get better.' Hohenheim smiled with encouragement.

Author's note: Sorry for no updates. I've been busy with Youtube and other stories. If you look under the name Daisukebebop on Youtube you can have a look at some of them if you like. Please comment on them too! Review here plz.

Ophelia Davis


	16. Three Little Words

It had been three days since Edward's birth and already he was a toddler. This, according to Hohenheim had been expected of the method. Even though Edward had been making exceptional progress in his growth the same, unfortunately, couldn't be said for the doctors who were in charge of the delivery. The midwife was pronounced dead at the scene; despite efforts from Dr House, he died minutes after the attack from blood loss and lack of oxygen. He had tried so hard to defy his fate but it was all in vain. But, luckily for Dr Cameron, she was saved in time and would only need auto-mail in order for her to carry on with her work as a doctor. This would demand a trip to Resembool.

_That's where they were heading now. Hohenheim, Winry, Alphonse, Dr Cameron and the toddler were on the train, heading straight for that direction. _

_The train wasn't very full at all, in fact, there weren't many on that train. The only reason that could be encouraged from that was that they were heading for a rural place, which didn't attract city lovers, of which there would be many. _

'_Where are we going?' Little Edward asked as he sat on her lap, being held in her arms. _

'_We're going to Resembool and we're going to be living there for a while.' Winry smiled. _

'_Resembool?' Edward let his mind scavenge around for some telltale existing memories that originated from that location. 'I remember living there before. Me and Alphonse had burnt our house down just before we left for East head-quarters.' Edward remembered with a satisfied grin. _

'_So you still have memories of that place.' Hohenheim smiled. He didn't find anything wrong with that memory, but inside he still wished he were there to stop the madness and comfort his sons' right from when their mother died, when they were 10. That way they would've been none the wiser of Homunculi, the pain of auto-mail surgery, human transmutation and being a dog of the military. They could've been excluded from those sorts of stresses and maybe Edward would've been excluded from his somewhat forbidden Lust with his commanding officer, Roy Mustang._

_It was strange though. In the three days that Edward had been alive, he had never asked after Roy to find out where he was or whether he was ok. It could even be questioned whether Edward still had any of those kind of feelings for Roy, but he knew that it would be hard when coming to tell him that the once love of his life had been mercilessly killed with, you could say, a stab in the back by the Fuhrer. But, at the moment, these notions did not bother Edward so there was need to trouble him with them now. _

'_Last stop, Resembool.' The train master called over the speaker on the train. 'Be ready with your luggage to unboard the train.' _

_After 10 more minutes of sitting on hard chairs, and Edward on a warm lap, they were finally able to unboard the train. After unboarding, Alphonse and Hohenheim were readily collecting their own bags that were until a man in charge of the luggage cart called Hohenheim aside to talk. _

'_We've arranged a car for your…special luggage and we'd like to know where it will be taken.' The man said in a hush whisper in Hohenheim's ear. _

'_Ah yes.' Hohenheim smiled in the same hushed whisper. 'Take it to no.2 bell road hill. The auto-mail clinic if you please.'_

'_Very well.' The man smiled respectfully and Hohenheim was able to return to his group. _

'_What was that about?' Edward asked with the curious eyes of a toddler. _

'_Just some circumstances that needed to be sorted out.' Hohenheim smiled sadly, but Edward didn't venture further to know what this melancholy expression was. He was happy with his given answer and left it at that. _

_The group began to travel on foot towards the house on the hill; Edward soaked up the surroundings around him, letting the memories of his once carefree life fill up his head as they once did before. Looking over in the distance where he remembered his once home would be, he found a burned down wreck of wall, roof supports, brick and a burnt tree that no longer bore leaves or fruit on its scorched branches. There was no grass surrounding the area except for naked ground still black and blistered from that time of fate entitled "No turning back". _

_Edward knew the memory very well but didn't flinch from the past it held. _

_Finally, they had reached the house. A black hearse with a wooden coffin in the back could be seen parked outside and, before the driver could knock on the door, Winry set Edward down and the little child tottered over to the stairs, jumped up each step and, with a rap of his little fist knocked on the door. The driver of the hearse looked down at the toddler in a confused manner but Edward just looked up at him with a happy grin on his face. The man expected a sad look on the child's features and so put the boy's happiness down to ignorance of the reasons for what the hearse was for or what a coffin even was. But, somehow, he could rightly put that excuse up to the little boy, for he seemed to have an intelligent look in his golden eyes as if he knew more than he let on. _

_The driver knocked to make sure that the residence knew of their presence and a tiny woman on the otherside opened up to find a little boy looking up at her with a grin. She knew the face instantly, but t left her bewildered._

'_E-Edward?!' She shrieked with surprise. Edward seemed to look even smaller and younger than she last remembered him and she was even surprised to see the toddler with his own right arm and left leg. _

'_Hello Granny!' Edward grinned happily, and he gave a hug to show affection to a person he already knew quite well. It wasn't long before Winry had joined him at the door. _

'_Winry! What is the meaning of this? Why is Edward so…young? Why doesn't Dr Cameron have a hand? Where is there a hearse with a coffin parked at the front? Who's died? I want answers!' Granny Pinako demanded, and it was easy to see the anger and worry in her face. The poor toddler flinched at the sight and he hugged Winry's leg for protection. She picked him up and hugged him close to her, making shushing noises pf reassurance to make him feel safe. _

'_I'll tell you when we get inside, but I'll need Hohenheim to help fill in bits that I don't know.' Winry reassured Pinako. _

_The old woman's now kinder eyes fell onto Edward, who was as before looking at her with a happy smile. But something caught her eye, the red circle-like mark on the child's throat. She was sure that Winry already knew it was there so at the moment, until brought up, it would be silly to ask. Pinako let her granddaughter, Edward and the doctor following behind into the house and after thanking the driver, she allowed him to leave. _

_Silence hung in the atmosphere between them until Hohenheim and Alphonse came in through the back door carrying the coffin between them. Carefully and respectfully, they balanced it on the small coffee table, which was placed in between the square arrangement of the sofas and so in between Winry, Pinako and the Dr Cameron. The three women held solemn faces, as did Alphonse and Hohenheim, who sat them down. But the toddler, Edward, wanted to reach out and touch the coffin with curiosity but Winry kept him hugged tightly to her._

'_So what's happened this past month that I don't know about?' Pinako finally asked calmly and patiently. _

_For the past couple of hours, all the information was filled in, which included why the toddler was here, the method for creating him and the rest. Pinako listened carefully with patience, even though at some points her face expressed that of incredulousness. But even the toddler couldn't quite survive the boredom and was allowed to crawl about from lap to lap except for Hohenheim's and Pinako's, who he couldn't reach. _

_Finally, Pinako released a sigh. 'So what happened to Edward's teacher?' Pinako asked. _

'_We found her a few days later after the Homunculi's invasion among the dead bodies in Central.' Hohenheim answered. 'Alphonse took it hard but we were able to send her body over to Dublith for her husband to bury her there.'_

_Edward suddenly snapped into attention as words about his teachers were shared. He hadn't expected such a detail and neither had he expected his once strong teacher would befall to the cold grasp of death._

'_T-Teacher's dead?' Edward murmured with a face of shock. His eyes soon filled rapidly with tears and they over flowed to spill down his cheeks. _

'_I-Is she in the coffin?' Edward pointed to the wooden coffin in front of him. 'I want to see.' _

'_Oh. Edward. I don't know if you-.' Winry tried to deter him from the idea but was then cut off by Hohenheim. _

'_Let him. He has a right to see.' _

_Slowly, the coffin opened but the residence of it was not who Edward had expected to see. His eyes widened at the sight from the shock and disgust. He recognised the body as an older self. The boy had golden hair that was stained and matted with blood. There were four scars on his pale face that adorned most of it. Part of his throat had been bitten away. The boy's clothes were a black, yet bloodstained vest, black trousers and black boots, and he had an auto-mail arm that was clear to see._

'_That's me!' Edward remarked. 'So…that's how I died.' He finally said with a tinge of realisation in his voice. 'But what happened to Roy? I knew he was there. What happened to him?' _

'_He was killed shortly after you were by Pride.' Alphonse murmured. More tears dribbled down the little boy's face. The man that he used to love was gone forever. He could never see him again and, even if he did, there wouldn't be a face of happiness, but a face that was pale and only just attached to the corpse's neck. 'Where is he buried?' Edward asked. _

'_In Central.' Hohenheim answered. 'When you're older, I'll let you visit him.' _

_Edward gave his own little appreciative smile to Hohenheim. 'Thanks.' _

'_Edward? Do you remember who your real mother was?' Pinako asked. _

'_Yeah. Her name was Trisha if I remember right.' Edward pulled out the memory from the ones that were resident with him in his past life. _

'_Yes. I have a picture of her here.' Pinako left her seat and, scavenging through cupboard draws she pulled it out ad passed it onto the boy, who held it carefully in his little hands. _

_On the picture could be seen the tall figure of Hohenheim at the left side, who held Edward up by the waist. On the right side was his mother, Trisha, who held the then baby Alphonse close to her. Edward stared at his mother's image, mystified by her beautifully young appearance as her chestnut brown hair, which was loosely tied hung around her shoulders. But it wasn't just the memories of Trisha that presented them to him when he saw it, but also the memories of the Homunculus Sloth who mercilessly killed all those people in the town centre without a single thought to their well being or what the future might hold. But Edward was no better. He too took mercilessly the lives of two doctors who so happily allowed him to live. That thought was enough to make him sick to his stomach, even though it was HE who brought that pain and dread upon them. _

'_Dr Cameron.' Pinako began. Dr Cameron looked up at her from nursing her hand stump with a silent but confused look. 'Yes, I remember you. I'll need to get your left hand measured so that Winry and I can start building it. But did Edward REALLY bite it off?' She asked. _

'_Well I wouldn't say bite it off as much as he more ate it off.' Dr Cameron frowned. Though Edward was a child she still seemed to hold a special area of hatred for the child deep inside her. _

'_I'm sorry I did that.' Edward said tearfully. 'I can understand if you don't want to forgive me.' _

'_I forgive you.' Dr Cameron sighed with a smile. But Winry could see that deep inside she didn't mean it. After all, it was one thing to forgive someone for a simple thing like telling a lie, but to forgive someone after they took away an appendage was a completely different matter. It was one of the hardest things to do, and you just knew that deep inside they never truly meant it, even if the offender was openly forgiven. _

Author's note: Sorry for no updates, but here we are, busy as always. No human is perfect, and neither is a homunculus! So, you can understand that there was bound to be a lag in updates somewhere. Thanks for your patience, and keep reviewing where possible, because I love them all, truly.

Thanks, Ophelia davis


	17. The New Decor

There were no more nonsensical lines to be found in the dream, which meant that every line of the prophecy had been recovered. But there surprisingly seemed to be nothing significant in the dream, nothing stuck out at her and proclaimed itself worthy as a clue to the future. Winry trudged downstairs tiredly, but nothing could prepare her for the surprise that would behold in the kitchen.

Her eyes widened in shock, her mouth fell open, letting a gasp escape and she shook from the fear of the memory that came with it. The kitchen walls were splattered red including all appliances and the floor. The computer especially was coloured exuberantly. The memory of the day that she discovered Edward's dead body haunted her mind. It was happening all over again and just like that memory, the computer was on. On the screen, the cursor flashed as it did so whenever nothing was putting it to use. Stepping over slowly to the desk with a shaky stance, she could see the letters clearly.

'…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Liar.'

Footsteps were creeping up behind her until, turning around; she came face to face with her son.

'Do you like the new décor?' Nicholas smirked. 'You should feel right at home here.'

With one last satisfied sneer, he picked up his school bag from the living room and he was out of the door, letting red paint footprints trail from his school shoes onto the pavement.

Winry's knees gave into weakness and she fell to the floor, weeping as she had done so many years ago for her beloved husband.

Author's note: Again the updates are slow, but I'm trying my best. This is a short one, but I may put another one up today as well.

Ophelia Davis


	18. His Father's Sword

That morning, the phone rang through the once silent early morning air. With the parents asleep and only Nigel well awake, he was the one to answer it.

'Hello?'

'Ah, Nigel. It's Dr. Hohenheim. I went to her house yesterday. She knows the prophecy.'

'And? What does it mean?' Nigel asked, immediately understanding who "she" was and even what Hohenheim meant by the prophecy.

'A Homunculus, there's going to be an eighth Homunculus.' Nigel's face paled; he knew that word all too well and hated it with a foul contempt. 'I'm guessing that's bad then.' He laughed falsely with a laugh that hinted sarcasm.

'Well, it's hard to say. We don't know whether the prophecy entails a good or bad event.'

'I-I'm sure that's not all you came to talk to me about. How is she, and how's Nicholas?'

'Not so good I'm afraid. Nicholas's found out your dead. I doubt you'll ever be able to return to him.' he sighed resignedly.

'No!' Sudden frustration thrummed through his body. 'I can still return! You said I could when the time was right!'

'But I didn't think Nicholas would find the book. If Nicholas still thought you were alive, then you could go back and his mother could pretend that everything was normal. But now that they both know, you can't sneak back into their lives so easily.'

'But he's my son! I want to…I have to see him! He's my only child! What right have you to take away the right to see my son?'

'I'm not saying that I have a right, but if you go back then you're causing trouble! Just stay away!' Hohenheim's impatience had finally caught it with him and for once it hung around in his voice and showed through his normally calm exterior. With this, the phone hung on the other side, leaving Nigel with an unceasing bleep ringing in his ears.

Nigel's hand shook with rage and out of the very emotion, he pulled hard on the cord breaking it and he threw it to the floor, stamping on it until the receiver was in pieces. As he did so, he screamed in ire as if it was Dr Hohenheim.

His words still resounded in his mind.

"You can't sneak back into their lives so easily!" "Just stay away!" Again Nigel's body shook with rage pumping through his veins. Screaming again, he pulled the whole phone from the line and smashed it down to the ground. Tears broke out from his eyes. The phone seemed to be taunting and mocking him from its involuntary deathbed on the floor. "Just stay away!" It seemed to catcall. More rage burst forth from Nigel's body along with more tears and he began stomping on it as he had done with the receiver. His emotions drove his ever movement. They were even responsible him throwing what was left of the phone out the window, shattering the glass.

He couldn't help himself. Nigel screamed catcalls through the induced hole in the window.

But, before he knew what was going on, he'd been pulled back and wrestled face first to the floor; caught off guard. A soft, plump pillow had been pushed against his head as a way of restrainment and an extra weight had piled itself onto Nigel's back. This weight wasn't going to give up and let his anger grow uncontrollable.

'It's Ok son.' A familiar voice said with reassurance, it was his father's voice from above him meaning he was the one on his back.

'Just let it all out.' Another voice spoke. This one came from the side of him. This was his mother's voice.

Nigel began to flail his legs, kicking the floor and fuelling his rage out onto it. His hands were clenched together into fists and the rage that fuelled his arms was now being spent onto the floor with malicious thumps. The rage that fuelled his mouth now filled the air with screams of anger, most of which was being muffled by the pillow.

'HE WON'T LET ME SEE MY SON! HE THINKS I'M DEAD! MY SON THINKS I'M DEAD! I'M DEAD TO HIM!' Nigel screamed with every fibre of his being. 'I CAN'T JUST STAY AWAY! I WANT TO SEE HIM! I MUST SEE HIM!' The screams of rage, anger and sadness carried on all through the morning as each parent took it in turns to keep his restrained to the floor.

It was a strange method in itself to use as a means of anger management but it always worked. By keeping the person faced down, he couldn't so easily hurt someone, by putting a pillow over his head his screams were muffled and it was soft for him as well. By sitting on him it was easier to stop him from getting up and taking it out on someone else. But unrestraining his arms and legs; it was easier for him to take it out on the floor.

It may seem cruel, but it proved most effective on more that one occasion.

Finally, the kicks and thumps ceased and the screaming ceased, but now all that was left under his father's weight was their son shaking with sadness. This time under the pillow, the screaming had ceased, but now there were only muffled cries.

Now that they were sure he wasn't going to cause any harm, his father slowly slipped off him and kneeled at his side, but the pillow was kept on his head. It had been agreed that only when the pillow was removed from his head could Nigel dare mover from the floor.

Slowly, his father began to remove the pillow from Nigel's head and, as soon as he did, Nigel quickly clutched a hold of his mother and cried in her arms. Streams of tears fell down his cheeks and spilled onto her shoulder. Mylinda held him close and rocked him back and forth with the reassurance and safety of her love.

'Hush now. It's ok.' She reassured as Nigel's cries carried on all through the morning.

That afternoon, Nigel was a lot calmer now and he could focus on daily tasks with ease. He was though, admittedly still a little testy and annoyed from that morning's news but he was a lot calmer than when he had been told.

Since he still needed to carry on with normal tasks, he still needed to carry on training, and this one was with swords. It was around the same time that Nigel started his karate lessons with his mother as his teacher that he also took up swords as well. This helped Nigel's speed, skill and discipline grow stronger making him a worthy opponent for anyone willing to battle him.

Often, now that both Nigel and his father were at the top of their game, they trained without padding with the trust that they wouldn't need it.

At the dojo, which was connected to the side of the house, his father waited in the centre of the floor with his sword strapped at his side and in its hilt. Nigel stepped out to him until they were only a few metres away from each other. He too had his sword strapped to him and in its hilt.

'Sensei ni rei*!' His father commanded, and Nigel responded with a low bow as respectively as he had done so many times before. 'Very good.' He smiled. 'In your stance!'

Nigel immediately dropped with his knees bent and his right foot forward. His left thumb was inching the sword from its hilt ever so slightly.

'Good. Now this is just a kumite** match.' His father too dropped into the same stance. 'Ok. Ichi. Ni. San. Izume***!'

Both started forward, withdrawing their swords and the metal clashed with a shink. Jumping back, the swords parted and Nigel darted forward, angling his sword as if it were to slice through his father's left flank. But he was ready and he blocked it with ease.

'Your swing is too wide! Don't leave your defences open!' His father shot at him.

'I didn't!' Nigel shouted angrily. With a wide swing of anger he tried for his father's other flank.

'Control yourself! You're still angry! You shouldn't wield a sword when you're in this mood!' he blocked the attack before advancing around the side of Nigel to plan an attack from behind, but he around and met his attacker. The swords clashed and now they were forcing each other's swords forward on each other.

'But men always wield a sword in anger!'

'But they seek revenge and destruction, not to protect as we do!'

'But all I can think to do with this sword is to run it through that doctor's throat!'

'Then take your anger out on him but not on the innocent!' Nigel sliced his sword from the defensive move and he spun around to attack. His father dodged it but was unprepared for Nigel's aerial attack. Quickly though, he only just managed to knock him aside with a kick. Nigel lay on the floor, but with some effort he got up and posed his sword ready to attack.

'You know what? Hohenheim's right about you staying away! As if you'd be a good father to Nicholas!' His father taunted.

'Shut up!' Without a seconds thought, Nigel sprinted forward swinging his sword widely and with an untameable wildness; one that could only be deflected, for all previous skill and discipline had dissipated with each stroke of rage. Pure malice had replaced the man that had been holding the sword.

'He's gone his whole life without you so why start now?' His father jeered. It wasn't like he meant each catcall that left his lips, he only wanted to test his son's nerves, and how long he would hold out before being pushed to far to the edge. By the force and power behind it, as well as the supposed inexperience, Nigel was teetering on the edges.

'I said shut up!' More tears piqued from his eyes as he screamed for his father to give up the harsh words, and his swings were growing wilder still with each swing. They were more tears than were usually present in a controlled fight, but, then again, this fight seemed to be no longer controlled.

'You're swinging too wide!' his father admonished, and instead of his harsh commanding voice, there was worry…even _fear _that entranced his voices edges. He could block the swings frantically. His son's force was overpowering him too easily, and with this force being powered by that of rage, his moves were faster and stronger; uncontrollable like a wild fire that would not relinquish its hold on the chose forest, especially when there was plenty of fuels for its ever burning embers. That was how rage was now, and it was eating its way through Nigel with pathetic ease.

'You must control your anger! Don't let it swallow you up inside!' his father counselled as he blocked yet another powered swing. But now Nigel's moves were growing more offensive and blind, and a jab was sent towards his father's chest. It was just that simple to lose sight of whom your opponent was now. It was only with his quickness that his father could dodge the attack. 'This match has gone on long enough!' His father shouted now, knowing all too well the possible risks that could come to let if this brawl was dragged out. 'Stop this now!'

But Nigel's rage had rendered him deaf to all commands and admonishments from here on out.

'Fine!' His father spat. 'If you will not listen then you'll have to be taught!' as Nigel sent a wide overhead swing at his father, he sent a jab at his own son's chest, but he only did so expecting it to be blocked.

'Block it!' He screamed, knowing clearly the result if he didn't. But it was already too late. The sword pierced Nigel's chest; running through to his chest. The blade sank right up to its handle. The shock of it made the offender's hand grow weak, releasing the sword from his hand as it pierced further.

Nigel's features could only be described as being contorted with a look of surprise upon them. As gravity had pulled the sword's tip into the floor, it righted itself up into a straight angle. Slowly, his son's body began to sink down the sword's blade before making contact with the ground.

Before, his father had been rendered into silence, but now a scream left his lips as he screamed his son's name.

Blood spilled from Nigel's chest and from his mouth in the generous quantities that qualified itself for a title of fatal blood loss. His father could only bend down at his side. Tears poured down his cheeks, but there was no use in their presence now, for the life-light had already left Nigel's widened gold eyes.

The sword of his own father had killed their only son; it was a disgraceful crime and one that could not be repented for or one that you could so easily beg for forgiveness for its execution and for it all to be put right, for he surely couldn't be called back from death's underworld.

Author's note: I had to take these Japanese terms from a book on karate in my school library so, for those who don't know the definitions very well, this is what they mean. I've put stars next to the terms to indicate which ones I mean and where they are in the fan fiction, I hope I didn't confuse you in doing so.

*Sensei ni rei: Bow to your teacher

**Kumite: Free-style or Sparring

***Izume: Ready

While Izume means ready, Izumi actually means 'fountain'. It's weird how one letter makes all the difference in Japanese. It's just like how Daisuki means 'I really like you' or 'I love you' and then Daisuke means 'Great helper' (Dai meaning great in this situation).

As well, sorry if the style seems strained, I was having one of those slow nights when my writing was hard to organize and it all went to pot like that. Hopefully, you'll like the chapter just the same.


End file.
